Friends
by Amazonia-V
Summary: Story explores Superman, Wonder Woman and their friends in various adventures. Some romance, some drama, some emotional scenes. Thanks to ImFanci for the beta.
1. Chapter 1

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS and DISCLAIMERS**

People always want to know if writers put real people in stories. And the answer, for most writers, is no.

But I've found that sometimes readers are convinced that real people are in stories. Me included. I have had conversations with friends where we all agree that, "the serial murderer in that last story, the one who was called the beer murderer, because he used beer bottles to stun his victims before killing them, that guy with the black hair and the strange eyes," is someone whom we work with. And well, we all know he's meant to be so and so "… in this story….and how clever to portray him as the serial murderer and give a whole new meaning to the phrase murder a beer…"

This is the sort of conversation that can make me quake with fear as a writer. There's no point protesting that the text was not meant to sound like any particular person. Nobody believes you. I live in fear of meeting a harmless work colleague, with black hair and strange eyes, who loves to guzzle beer and calls himself a beer murderer.

Which is why I decided to write a story where I could make up things left, right and centre.

I don't own any of the main characters – they've been created by DC.

I happily invented my own scenes. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the writer, and all incidents are pure invention, and have no existence outside the imagination of the writer.

Apologies to any one who reads anything I've written that makes them quake. I'm sorry, but I just made lots of things up!

Many thanks to all the writers, authors and other fabulous people who have in some way inspired my thoughts, ideas and words.

A big thank you to ImFanci for the fabulous beta.

And a special thanks to the SMWW fan group for allowing me to experiment, think aloud and generally have fun, while being generous with their praise.

**PROLOGUE**

_Friday, 12 February 2010 _

Open Season  
By Clark Kent, Metropolitan Crime Reporter , The Daily Planet

A liquid hand sanitizer manufacturing giant has reportedly released a sub-sect strain of the popular swine flu virus to the general public to make up for sagging fourth quarter sales projections.

LL Gels saw their stock prices soar over the past year as the swine flu epidemic hypothetically infected millions of people. It must be noted that LL Gels was formed with the intent of providing an efficacious yet simple solution to the swine influenza epidemic that devastated Mexico and some parts of the USA in 2009. The best selling product, Vaccine Strength Liqua-Gel, had shown declining sales in the last financial quarter. Independent confidential sources interviewed by The Daily Planet revealed the marketing plan to boost sales and make profits indiscriminately.

Hotels, retailers, and offices alike all positioned the trendy FLOWGO dispensers in clear view to allay public fears and to provide the perception of a society dedicated to the control of the spread of swine influenza or the H1N1 virus.

The Daily Planet took a look behind the gilded company doors and interviewed key officials representing LL.

"We have become aware of a situation of a mutated strain of the H1N1 virus, more commonly known as swine flu. This strain has been known to affect those who are recovering from an illness or have an already compromised immune system. Other people should be just fine. There is no perceivable problem with our tried and tested Brand Vaccine Strength Liqua-Gel, with an all-new formula, that good medical assistance cannot cure. Congress should take more note of the appalling health-care conditions," said corporate spokeswoman Lisa Marie Dawson.

"And for all those wacky, tin-hat wearing conspiracy theorists out there, of course we would not leak such a deficiency on the general public. The only profit we see is the health of our nation's people through the use of our tough, form fitting, easy dissolving anti-bacterial lotions that fight off 99.99% of diseases," she continued.

That and around $200 million in projected first quarter earnings, this year.


	2. Chapter 2

"Some drivers thrive on winning races. Others love to cause trouble. It's the latter that gives racing a bad name. Hal Jordan is one of those drivers."

—Clark Kent, Special Features, The Daily Planet

There were, in Lois's opinion, three types of men: Those that made you go, "Eww." As in, yuck, look at what the cat dragged in, I wouldn't touch that with a pair of rubber gloves. Those that made you think, "Hmm." As in, if I was tired, tipsy and just a little bit desperate, I might take him home. And those that made you exclaim, softly, of course, "Oh, my."

Superman was a solid "Oh, my."

She'd known that. Of course she'd known that. The thing was, it didn't make it any easier to approach him. So she had tried other ways. Peering around the edge of the security cordon at the crime scene where Superman was fighting a super-villain, trying to be the first on the scene where Superman was busy saving lives and even risking life and limb to attract his attention.

And as she walked around the city, covering news-worthy event, she looked up, up, up in the sky….every once in a while walking forward only to stop suddenly and look up, the large bag she'd sling over one shoulder, with her laptop and notes, hitting her in the spine.

Just now, she was in two minds.

You're being ridiculous. He's just a man. No, he's not. He's a Superman.

Lois Lane, Reporter Extraordinaire (at least in her mind), was on her way to cover events at the drag races. And maybe, just maybe, find a man good enough to take her mind off a certain Superman. It was a busy day at the drag race motorsports complex. People heavily laden with salty-scented sunblock rushed past her, spectators, track officials and crewmen alike. Lois wrinkled her nose as the breeze blew in the smell of engine exhaust and burned rubber tires, not a pleasant one at the best of times but a very macho one.

She much preferred the sweet smell of hot dogs and hamburgers which hung in the air, as if everyone were at an outdoor barbecue rather than a drag strip. On the asphalt behind her, cars took off at regular intervals, their engines so loud, Lois resisted the urge to cover her ears.

She looked around for the man she had come to interview, Hal Jordan.

If Superman was an, "Oh My!" in the Men Category, Hal Jordan came a close second. Definitely worth a look and a feel and maybe a….

Come on, Lois. Sooner or later you've got to do it. You've got to talk to Hal Jordan.

She risked another look. And her whole body just sort of went oomph.

Hal leaned against the side of a big rig that hauled his gear from track to track, looking very…very…

She thought for a moment.

Gladiator-ish, if there was such a word. Almost as if he had just stepped out of Ben Hur. He was watching a mechanic work on his car. Yellow Do Not Cross This Line tape kept fans at bay. Above him someone had pulled a white awning out from the side of the rig. It cast a translucent glow over his darkly tanned skin—as if he stood beneath a photographer's umbrella—and turned his black leather gear a shade of gray. She didn't know how he could stand to wear those leathers on a hot, sunny day like today, but she had to admit, he looked, um, hot in them.

She wiped a trickle of sweat off her own forehead. Go on, she silently urged, watching as he leaned forward and said something.

But Lois was biding her time, waiting for the right moment.

Out on the track, the deafening roar of a race car in the middle of a qualifying run filled the air yet again, but she could still hear the Hal's deep laugh as he talked to the mechanics working on his car.

Do it.

Now!

She readjusted the straps of her purple leather bag, and headed for him.

He became more beautiful with each step. Race-car drivers were not, as a rule, pretty…at least not in her experience. But this guy was gorgeous...

Razor-stubble chin. Dark sideburns in front of his ears.

The lips of Michelangelo's David. Botticelli's wide-armed physique, and the swept-back, wind-tossed hair of a god. Leonardo da Vinci's charisma and eye appeal. She'd minored in Art…a degree that wasn't useful in her current job, but terrific for spur-of-the-moment metaphors.

She paused outside the tape, clenched her hands, then sternly told herself to stop being ridiculous. She'd graduated at the top of her class. With honors.

"Hi, Hal," she said.

Golden light brown eyes – the same colour as the sands of Florida's eastern beaches at sunrise – gave her a puzzled stare. Lois liked Florida and she simply loved sunrises. Had always loved them. She found them more romantic than sunsets. Waking up with someone to watch a sunrise meant commitment and future and hope.

"I'm Lois," she said now, ducking beneath the yellow tape. "Lois Lane."

Hal glanced at his mechanic, gave her a don't-worry-I'll-handle-this look, albeit one tinged with amusement, and pushed away from the side of the semi.

"Can I help you?" he asked, those eyes of his sweeping her up and down.

Not much to see, I'm afraid. "You don't recognize the name, do you?"

"No," he said, his drawl more pronounced when it was oozing male sensuality. "Should I?" he asked suggestively.

Whoo-wee, the man should come with a Warning: Smile May Cause Electric Shock.

She felt that sexy grin all the way down to her toenails. And it figured he didn't recognize her. While she was The Daily Planet's top reporter, she'd only won the Pulitzer a couple of months ago.

"We've actually talked on the phone about this interview," she said. "I work for The Daily Planet."

"The Daily Planet?" he asked, as if he didn't recognize that name, either. But of course he did. They had done a full-length feature on him two years ago. Of course, it was not a piece written by Lois, Clark had done the story, but she remembered every word.

"The Daily Planet," she repeated, shifting the bag to the other shoulder so she could lift the wide flap and pull out a business card. "I'm the Chief Reporter."

He glanced at the card, recognition dawning. Again, the eyes scanned her, and for the first time Lois found herself wishing for a six-foot-one frame, voluptuous cleavage and sexy, pouty lips (If only I looked like Wonder Woman, she thought). Alas, she was five foot six, had to work to look good, with hair as light brown and wispy straight as a Lhasa Apso.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

All amusement had fled. There was no longer any hint of a smile. No word of greeting. Just the steely-eyed glare of a man who wasn't happy to see her. Well, she'd expected that. After all, he'd been ducking her calls for days.

"Actually, Perry White requested that I come. Well, Perry wanted my colleague, Clark, to come. But he's too busy. One of his pet rocks needs attention. Terrible thing. Maybe the end of the road for the rock. Clark went down to, um—", she stopped.

She didn't continue.

"What does Perry White want with me?" he asked, one of his dark brown eyebrows lifting. He crossed his arms in front of him, something that made his shoulders appear twice as wide.

He knew. He had to know. The Daily Planet features were read by half the planet and that meant at least 2.5 billion people. Hal would have to be stupid not to know what that coverage could do for his career, but if he wanted to play dumb…

"Well, the interview with you is part of a series on adventure sports for our readers, and Clark really thought that you might enjoy letting the public know what makes you tick," Lois smiled. Then she continued with what she thought should clinch the interview and close the conversation. "And The Daily Planet has cleared the interview with your agent. She was quite happy to approve your talking to us."

Hal swore underneath his breath. He just did not have the time for this. Not after he had to deal with the after effects of Parallax. Sure, he was grateful enough for the job, but no way was he going to let some fancy chick boss him around, agent or no. So, just to rile Lois and to send a message to his boss, he said, "Tell my agent to go blow."

"Excuse me?"

He'd started to unzip his leather race gear. Lois felt her mouth go dry. The black material slid off his shoulders, exposing a white cotton tank beneath. Arms so sculpted they belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine flexed as he shrugged out of the material.

"Mr. Jordan, Hal" she quickly added when it became clear that he wasn't undressing to pose for interview photographs—or to make her mind go blank. Which it did! Momentarily.

"I understand your reluctance to do the interview, but obviously I can't tell your agent to, um, go blow. That's for you and her to sort out. I'm not your messenger. We can do the interview or we don't. But either way, I'm going to go away with a story that will sell the newspapers. So, its ok if you don't want to talk, I'll meet people who will talk about you."

All Hal Jordan did was shrug before he turned away. She watched him cross to a green-and-white cooler where he pulled out some sort of orange-colored drink. When he turned back, he almost seemed surprised to see her still standing there.

"I don't have time for this," he said after cracking the can open and proceeded to down half of it in a few loud gulps.

"Its out of the question. I don't have time to talk to anyone right now."

Hal Jordan watched Lois Lane walk away, although why the hell she'd gave up so easily, he had no idea. He shook his head, turning away.

There was more to that woman than met the eye. Well, good for her.

"What was that all about?" Janice, his mechanic, asked, pausing in the middle of the aisle that ran up the length of the hauler. She stopped before a cabinet full of drawers, opened one up and began to fish through it.

"Nothing," Hal said, shaking his head.

"Didn't sound like nothing." Janice might be blonde, petite, chewing gum, and sporting a tattoo or two, but she wasn't dumb. "You bucking the system again?"

"What of it?" Hal asked, turning his attention to a race card someone had left on the counter. It was a picture of him standing next to his car. A cheetah on steroids, that's what he called his beloved machine with its fat tires and power-hungry engine. Sitting behind the wheel of it gave him a rush unlike any other. Okay, maybe there were two other things that were better. One was being Green Lantern. And the other, well, he needed a woman for that.

"Look," Janice said, whatever she was looking for apparently forgotten, "I know you're used to doing as you please. But after everything that's been going on, are you sure thumbing your nose at your new boss is wise?"

Obviously, Janice was worried about her next paycheck. Hal didn't blame her. If Hal Jordan didn't start making some serious money, then it would be difficult for him to keep body and soul together. And he had already lived through that one, and didn't think he wanted another experience.

"Don't worry about it, Janice. I've got it handled."

Janice flicked her chin up. "Yeah, sounded like it."

But Hal just shrugged. What could he do? He needed to race. He needed to win the damn prize money, but nobody knew how perilous his financial situation had become. And nobody would know. Sure, if he raced, his new boss—James Hannigan—might get torqued, but he'd get over it. Owners always did.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark Kent looked up as Lois Lane marched into the office, scattering lesser mortals who scrambled to get out of her way. Pushing his spectacles higher up his nose, he got up and followed her as she flounced into her office. "What's up, Lois?" he asked, without actually hoping for an answer.

Ever since Clark had come to Metropolis and seen Lois, on his first day at The Daily Planet, he had felt stirrings of emotion for her. Something tugged at his heart even now, to see her looking so angry and vulnerable. Yes, vulnerable, thought Clark, mainly because Lois was never emotional. He knew her well enough to know that she considered a display of emotion as a sign of weakness.

Lois snapped out of her reverie. She had been alternately castigating herself over her unprofessional reaction to seeing Hal Jordan (in the flesh, no less), and her ire over not landing the story. Just now, she looked up at Clark. In his steel-grey suit, with his nerdy glasses, she was glad that he allowed her to keep her mind on work. On her man-rating scale, Clark was a two. But a girl definitely needed to be very tipsy and more than a little desperate to take him home. Still, it was nice to have him around. He was always caring and didn't shy from demonstrating his affection – to her, to Jimmy and even to Perry. And after this morning with arrogant, stubborn, irritating Hal Jordan, she didn't mind a little Clark Kent.

Just now she said, "Nothing, Smallville. It's just that Hal Jordan refused to be interviewed. And now I've got a special feature without a feature. It's soooo frustrating." Pausing to give Jimmy Olsen a grateful look for her cappuccino, Lois quickly filled in the details for Clark.

Clark listened intently. He was interested to know that Hal Jordan had snubbed Lois. What man would not be susceptible to her charms, he mused now? Heck, if she gave him even a half-inch, he would make sure that he won her over. He had been trying to get her to go out with him on a date for a long time. But Lois did not even notice his existence at the best of times. It was ironic really. If he just revealed himself to her as Superman, he knew that she would be his forever. But Clark was determined to be liked for himself, to be loved for the person he was. When you are really three unique identities forged into one, it was difficult to figure out just who you really were, he thought. Hal Jordan was certainly finding it difficult to settle in, he thought. And why didn't the idiot realize that his friends were trying to help him? He just kept pushing them away. The special feature would have brought the sponsors to his door, and brought in some money for Hal to live on. Maybe he should have a word with Hal…. "It's too bad really. I'm going to speak to Fanci Webb and tell her about Jordan. She should know that he's reneged on his deal" Lois's words broke into his thoughts. "Yeah, you do that," Clark responded without thinking.

"Kent, where the heck are you?" boomed the unmistakable voice of Perry White. Jimmy came rushing in again, "Clark, Mr. White is looking for you." "Sorry, Lois, I have to run," said Clark giving Lois a quick sneaky peck on the cheek. Lois didn't even notice.

In the Chief Editor's office, a cigar smoking Perry White was pacing up and down, puffing vigorously on his cigar. As Clark walked in, he barked, "Kent, Lex Luthor intends to sue this paper for running the story on LL Gels. Do you have any physical evidence for the facts you detailed? How did you get to know?" Clark quickly pulled out his Instaport, that was standard Daily Planet issue to all its reporters, allowing them to key in the story, take pictures and connect instantly to all news reporters around the world for details, facts, etc.

Looking at it, he shared his notes with Perry, all the while wondering about Luthor's next wicked plan. Batman had been investigating the outbreak of Swine flu in Gotham and had traced the link to Metropolis and to LL Gels. Superman and Batman had then teamed up to close down the LL Gels operations, rounding up suspects and bringing in the police. Batman had willingly provided Clark Kent with all the results of his investigation and the direct links. Clark Kent interviewed the witnesses and had their first person accounts. They were now in a witness protection program that was being monitored by the Justice League. Clark also knew that Wonder Woman was on monitor duty just now. But that last bit of information he could not share with Perry White, even though he smiled at the thought of Wonder Woman. So he stuck to the facts of the story.

An hour later, with Perry feeling more relieved and having talked to the legal beagles, Clark stepped out of Perry's office. "What was next on the agenda?" he mused. He wanted to check on Lois first, but he was pretty sure that Lois would calm down… Before he could take another step, he heard what he thought was a peal of thunder. The floor beneath his feet seemed to shudder. Nearly losing his balance as the building shook side to side, Clark used his super-vision to look through the walls of the building towards the source of the sound.

Thinking quickly, as he ran towards the store-room, he told Jimmy, "My stomach's giving out on me again. I'm just going to have to get it under control. Get as many people out of the building as you can. Don't wait for me. I'll be down as soon as I can."

There was a sound now, not like thunder, but like a great hammer flung down from heaven to strike the building. Jimmy and the other Daily Planet staffers ran to get out of the building.

As Jimmy ran into the corridor, he raced into madness.

The building shook again and had Jimmy tumbling down the corridor like dice in a cup. He could hear shouting and the pounding of feet. And he tasted blood in his mouth, seconds before it went dark. The lights in the building had gone off. Luckily, it was broad daylight. But many areas were dark.

Jimmy's pressed the alarm button on his Superman watch. His first wild thought was, Darkseid! as he remembered what had befallen Metropolis the last time around. But surely after the JLA had trounced Darkseid and his minions the last time around, banishing them to Apokolyps, beaten and battle weary, such a thing wasn't possible.

He never thought of Lex Luthor. So close to home, so insane with power. He never thought that a simple human being, born of earth, could wreak so much damage, with so little thought and so much disregard.

Jimmy scrambled up, slamming into walls in the pitch black of the corridor as he made for the stairs, then stumbling over his own feet and the stairs, and spilling out on to the main road with a flood of others. Al ready Lois was running ahead of him, and as Jimmy followed her, making sure his trusty camera, slung around his shoulder, was intact, he could hear the cries of terror along with shouted orders for bystanders to move behind the police cordon.

How bad was it? he wondered frantically. How bad could it be when he could see the bright sunshine of Metropolis? Even as he tried to calm himself, the ground shook again and one of the buildings – the great Metropolitan Trade Tower – began to shake, with the top floors toppling over. A few screaming citizens were hurled out of the windows towards the hard asphalt of the road. A blur of red and blue whizzed past Jimmy' eyes, even as he looked through the lens of his camera, clicking wildly. He saw a mass of faces—some torn, some scalded, all horrified. There were piles of debris on the road, and shaken citizens —bleeding, screaming—trapped under it. Some, he saw with dull shock, were already beyond screams. Superman had saved the people falling out of the buildings – they were weeping or praying by the side of the road – but he had been too late to save everyone. The city's public works department was already fighting madly to the injured clear of debris. Before the Metropolitan Trade Tower collapsed within itself, killing everyone in the vicinity.

Jimmy smelled death. And he was afraid. He wished he could be like Lois. Like the medicos who hurried along, with a kind of steady calm. They might have been handing out at a tea-party, he thought, until some one rushed by him.

"Go on, man! Do your job! Get the story."

It took Jimmy one blank moment before he remembered he was The Daily Planet's photographer and he had PRESS on his jacket lapel and in his cap. And an other before he understood, truly understood, that in his job, he needed to be as fearless as his pal, Superman.

Gosh, he thought, standing in the middle of the screams and prayers. I'm going to do my job, just like Superman and he began to run towards Lois. Lois was already dictating into her Instaport, eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. As Jimmy joined her and began to click away, she handed him the micro-headphone set that was the twin to the one she was using. Now Jimmy could hear what she relayed and click the photographs to go with the scene.


	4. Chapter 4

_Friday, __19 February 2010 _

LL Gels Strikes Back  
By Lois Lane, Chief Reporter , The Daily Planet

Photographs by Jimmy Olsen, Photographer, The Daily Planet

The ground shook again and the earth tilted, breaking up the road and sending ordinary citizens to their deaths. Superman was a blur of action as he moved from group to group, grabbing people, saving lives. And his sure hands, closed as if by magic, over a small child as she went tumbling by.

Those whose lives were saved huddled together –they had looked death in the eye and would never be the same again. Some of them were crying, others were muttering wild prayers of thanks, still others were clinging to each other, making sure that the children were in their midst.

The Daily Planet noticed one woman wedged between upturned taxi-cabs and stones. There was a child, with a small, angelic face, whom she clutched against her. She wasn't weeping. She wasn't screaming. She simply held and rocked the little boy as if lulling him into his afternoon nap. We moved across to help her. Jimmy Olsen began pulling at the debris that pinned her down.

"I've hurt my leg, " she said as she continued to stroke her child's hair, and the rings on her fingers sparkled in the strong spring sunlight. Though her voice was calm, her eyes were huge, glazed with shock and pain, and the terror that we all felt galloping in our chests. Our hearts hammered against rib cages that seemed too puny to hold them in.

The lady was calm, "I don't think I can walk. Will you take my baby? Please, take my little boy to a hospital. See him safe."

There was one moment, one heartbeat to choose. And while the world went to hell around us, the child smiled. There was no choice, we insisted she accompany us. If Superman could risk his life to save us and the city, we could surely risk a limb or two?

"I've lost my husband," she spoke in those clear, cul tured tones, and though her eyes were glassy, they stayed level as we struggled to free her. "He fell under the taxi there. I fear he's dead."

She was not dead, though. Neither was the boy. We could smell the child—powder, youth, innocence—through the stench of panic and death.

"What's his name?" I asked her. "Name? He's Patrick. Patrick Webster." It was time to get her and Patrick Webster to safety. "Hold on tight to Mama, Patrick," we heard her say. Then she crawled and clawed with him while the terror raged around us.

"Don't be frightened." She crooned it, though her breath was coming fast with the effort. Her skirts were pinned underneath the heavy stones, and blood was smeared over her fingers. "You have to be brave. Superman would want you to be brave."

And suddenly, there he was! Superman. Lifting the taxi-cabs and stones with ease, pulling the lady and her child free, cradling them in his arms as he scooped them, brushing the grit off the child as he deposited them next to the medics.

"God bless you," the lady managed and, wrapping both arms tight around her son, allowed herself to be cared for by the waiting paramedics.

The cold, the sheer brutality of the attack stole the breath of the city. Why would a genius choose to attack unsuspecting people? Why would Lex Luthor allow mass-scale destruction in his name? Why would Lex Luthor target the home of Superman?

For the citizens of Metropolis, for all those who survived the attack, who wept and cried for lost ones, for all of us yet alive, we are proud to share a home with the Man of Steel. (story continued on page 5)

****

The soundtrack from Chariots of Fire distracted the Ambassador of Themyscira from the newspaper article she was reading. She had been avidly reading Lois Lane's story on Superman when her mobile phone began ringing. "Please don't let it be Tom," she muttered as she reached across her desk to pick it up.

She didn't need another call from Tom Tresser, from the Department of Meta-human Affairs and the agent from hell.

She'd spent most of the day dealing with him, and he'd turned her mind to mush.

Retrieving the phone from the very end of the desk, Diana Prince steeled herself to see the caller's ID. If it was Tom again, she'd scream. Better yet, she'd resign her position and go back to Themyscira – she would laze on the beaches all day long.

The phone stopped ringing as she flipped it open. Great. She closed it with a snap and dropped it into her lap, sorely tempted to switch it off. But her conscience wouldn't let her. Nor would she resign. She had too much to lose, including the mission she'd worked so hard for.

Still, she'd had enough of Tom for one day—her least favourite person at the best of times and, in a crisis like today's, her worst nightmare.

'Remind me why I love my job,' she said out loud.

Silence was the only response, and she shrugged, wincing at the stiffness in her shoulders. She needed a relaxing soak in her favourite lavender-scented bath foam. She had not recovered fully from the attack on Themyscira and she still had a few twinges that she had hidden from her mother.

Rolling her shoulders slowly, she pictured herself collapsing into bed…but not to sleep. Not to do anything normal people did in bed. No way would Athena allow that. Diana would need to work hard on the Themysciran strategy, making sense of it. No one understood it at all, least of all a Princess, but continuing to be the Themysciran Ambassador was the only way that she could help her people now.

A beep from the phone made Diana jump. Accessing her voicemail, she sighed with relief at the sound of her best friend's bright tones. She rang Clark straight back. Just what she needed. The perfect antidote for the way she felt.

Clark answered on the first ring. "I'm on my way to Connor's birthday bash. Want to go with me? We can keep the young ones in line."

Diana laughed, a musical sound to Clark's ears. "Sure. Though I don't think we'll really be needed to play chaperone. They're old enough as it is."

"But it will give me some time to talk to you, Diana."

"Sure," she responded. And it will take my mind of Tom and my other troubles. "When will you be here? Or do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

Clark's deep voice responded, "I'll drop by and meet you for dinner, sixish? Then, we can go to the bash together."

Diana agreed and broke off the connection thoughtfully. That was a first for Kal. Picking up the phone and wanting to talk to her. It was not often that Kal displayed a vulnerability to needing a sounding board. They were much the same like that – all three of them – Bruce, Kal and Diana, herself. Which was why they were best friends. Or BFFs. Diana's lips quirked with a smile – she was picking up the weirdest expressions. Her mother and queen would be horrified. Then, she let out a deep breath on a sigh. She missed her mother and her sisters. Hera knew that she sorely needed someone to talk to, just now.

Clark smiled as the connection on his cell phone was broken and looked up to see Lois walk in. "Good story, Lois," Clark said aloud as she walked in accepting congratulations from everyone. "A real human interest angle."

"Great job," called out Perry.

Lois smiled to herself as she walked to her desk. Yes, it was a job well done. And had managed to push pesky Hal Jordan out of her mind.

Today, she was feeling on top of the world.

Clark secretly watched Lois with his super-vision. He couldn't help himself, but wish that they were closer. He knew that while Lois had no major love interest currently, she was dating only occasionally. He had really tried to get her to go out with him. It was only as Superman that he scored with her. But even Superman had been out with her only twice and those dates were strictly work related – interviews that Superman had given to Lois Lane the reporter, not romantic evening between Superman and Lois.

His thoughts drifted to Diana. The warm glow he always felt thinking about her brought a smile to his lips and his face softened. Diana was the closest woman to him after Ma Kent. But you couldn't discuss girlfriends with your mother. Maybe Diana would have some insights for him on getting Lois to date him. She seemed to have no trouble at all with Tom Tresser. Sometimes Clark got an uneasy feeling about Tresser. Like he was not the right person for Diana, but if Diana was happy…still he definitely wanted to talk to Diana about relationships.

*****

That evening, not sure what to wear since she didn't know where they were going, Diana opted for a simple Greek styled coral-pink dress, knee-length, with spaghetti-thin straps. Hoping it wouldn't look out of place at either end of the restaurant scale, she looked at herself in the mirror (she never used make-up) and topped off her outfit with some star-shaped diamond earrings. One last touch, she thought, and picking up the fragrant jasmine flowers, she crushed the petals against her skin, at the base of her neck, behind her ears, and even between her breasts. It was an old secret. Far more potent than any perfume, the fragrance of the flowers themselves, heightened by the warmth of her body and her own scent.

The doorbell rang as she slipped on some high-heeled sandals. Picking up her handbag, she headed down to the front door.

Her heart lurched and it took her a moment to find her breath.

Kal in a dark blue suit.

And a white shirt.

And a tie.

He looked better every time she saw him.

She swallowed. 'Wow.'

'Wow, yourself. You look beautiful.' He grinned. 'Like the evening star on Planet Myrmidax.'

'Thank you, I think. But will I do? I mean, I didn't expect you to dress up.'

'You're perfect.'

Her heart gave an extra-hard thud. She had to remind herself he was talking about her clothes.

'Shall we go?'

She nodded, and after locking the door, took the arm he offered and walked with him to the car. When in their alter-egos, both of them preferred to use more mortal means of transport. He opened the door and she hopped into the passenger seat. No need to be nervous, she told herself as she waited for him to walk around the car. Two friends going out for a meal.

Nothing more.

And she was right. No need to be nervous at all. Kal treated her to a lovely meal. They talked like they'd never been apart, perfectly relaxed with each other.

The conversation approached a more personal level when he told her about some of the places he'd visited in his work as a correspondent. He had never shared his Clark Kent life with her before. With a studied vagueness, he described a few atrocities which made her squirm. Even though as Wonder Woman, she had seen more than her fair share of atrocities, she was not immune to the horrors mankind could inflict on each other.

But Kal, being Kal, was so gentle and compassionate, he allowed her to feel the full gamut of her emotions without making her feel less an Amazon.

And he interspersed these stories with others that made her laugh so much, she had to use her napkin to dab at her eyes.

'You'll have to stop,' she said at the end of one. 'You'll ruin my make-up.'

He smiled, and his handsome face creased around his sparkling blue eyes. 'What make-up? It's good to hear you laugh, Diana. You're always my favourite audience.'

'Oh?'

'I never have to explain myself to you.' He refilled her glass. 'You always understand me. All three of me.'

'So does your mother.'

'Mmm. But she's my mother. She always felt obliged to tell me I was an idiot after she'd finished laughing.'

'Well…'

He held up a hand in a traffic-stopping gesture. 'Uh-oh. At least leave me the illusion you didn't agree with her.'

Diana tilted her head as she looked at him, his eyes half hidden by lowered lids. He had once been bold enough to claim her lips, if not her heart. She had been unprepared then for the hot rush of emotions that had raced through her body. Had begun to respond before falling into the sheer habit of her Amazonian up-bringing. Denied her very real attraction to all that was good in Kal, all that she was attracted to. Including his marvelous body. Incredibly handsome, powerfully built, sure of his powers, deeply compassionate, Kal had reminded her of the heroes and gods on Olympus, all compressed into one heady package. But she had denied her attraction. Denied the very real feelings that had just begun to sprout. Was unsure of how to respond to him, having never allowed a woman's emotions to surface within her. And frankly, honestly, she had shared her doubts with him.

Kal had misunderstood. Instead of talking to her, soothing her, helping her to understand, he had changed his mind and told her they were unsuited. She was a Princess, he was a farm-boy.

Diana did not really care for her royal status. She had known that below these outward appearances, they were cut from the same cloth. And too late, realized how deeply she loved him. Loved every part of him. Found herself looking for him at every JLA meeting. Wanting to call him. Just to talk to him, reading about him as Superman, reading what he wrote as Clark Kent.

But to no avail, their relationship had remained at being working colleagues, sparring partners and best of friends. But a part of her wished that Kal had not turned coward and run away, leaving her with the wishful thought of what might have been.

She knew that he was trying hard to win the affection of Lois Lane, his colleague. Diana herself had been out with other men – Bruce, and more recently Tom, but she never allowed herself to think of Kal.

She never took that risk. Every hour she spent with him made her feelings stronger. And she needed to guard against falling deeper in love with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Clark looked down at Diana with a warm smile. They had enjoyed their evening together and he had found himself talking about his life as Clark Kent. He had rarely shared that with anyone other than his parents. Strange how he had wanted to tell Diana. And he had asked for her advice on moving ahead in his relationship with Lois. Diana, being Diana, had been forthright with her advice and had even planned strategies with him. 'Don't waste time," she had said. "Take what you want," "Stop being patient, go for it." Diana certainly was the best friend a man could have. He remembered asking her about Tom Tresser, and her own sadness as she told him that she had made a mistake and Tom had thought it was best to move on. Knowing how advanced their plans were, even her mother's blessing, with Diana's own hopes for a family, Clark felt extremely annoyed with Tresser. How could he treat such a wonderful, warm, compassionate woman so callously? Didn't Tresser realize how lucky he was? Tresser was Diana's choice over Bruce, and in Clark's mind, there was no man better than Bruce. Maybe he needed to knock some sense into Tresser's head. Especially if he brought that look of sadness to Diana's face.

****

Connor glanced at Cassie by his side as they walked down a beach, after his birthday bash. She looked pensive. 'Are you tired?' he asked as they crossed a stretch of soft sand to sit in the shelter of large rocks, a man-made cliff to protect the fragile dunes from erosion.

'A little,' she said.

She flopped onto the sand, tucking her legs beneath her. Her shorts rode up as she did so, and he froze, staring at her smooth, shapely thighs, wanting to slide his hands—

He gave himself a mental slap. What was wrong with him? He'd controlled himself before and he could do it now. A grown man should have more self-control. Especially a grown man with super-control.

True, she was a grown woman too. Not the girl who'd made him feel protective. Was that the difference?

Whatever.

To distract himself, he said, "Nice of Superman and Diana to drop in." Cassie nodded.

"What are you thinking about?"

"They're so perfect together. They move as if they are one, as if each knows what the other is thinking and just responds."

"Ah Cassie, they've been best friends for years."

"Not just best friends. I think there's more but Diana doesn't want to reveal it."

He tilted his head and studied her profile. 'More specific?'

She turned back to face him. Mixed emotions flickered across her face, and he wanted to know what she was thinking. After several moments, she shrugged. 'I think that Diana secretly loves, always has. And Superman is super-dumb not to see it."

Connor was caught between supporting the man who was his mentor or supporting the woman he loved. "Uh-huh. May be he knows and wants to ignore it?"

Cassie narrowed her eyes at him. 'I like the challenge of finding out. Lets do that. They may even thank us?"

He nodded. "You take Diana and I'll take Kal?"

"No. Lets switch. You take Diana and I'll take Kal."

Connor thought about it for some time. He thought about Cassie. And his love for her. And how it made him vulnerable and strong at the same time. Love did that to you. They sat together companionably listening to the sound of the waves. He gently moved his arm to rest on her shoulders, and pulled her in closer to his body. Holding her, being so close, his nostrils picked up the faint scent drifting from her golden skin.

'God, you smell good,' he said before he could stop himself.

'I'm not…wearing perfume.' She looked up, her eyes wide. 'Oh, it must be my bath oil. Lavender.' She looked relieved.

'I guess it must be. I remember that smell.' It burrowed right down inside, reminding him of an earlier carefree time and the sheer joy of being with her.

She felt the warmth of his smile all the way to the soles of her feet.

He reached out, brushing a little sand from her cheek with his knuckles.

Her knees nearly buckled at his gentle touch.

Connor grabbed her wrist. "Hold on. One thing first."

"What's that?"

"This." He pulled her toward him, causing her to fall into him, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. She was expecting it and sighed. Her sigh gave him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She was a little stiff in his arms until he licked the inside of her lower lip. She tasted sweet and felt just as hot and amazing against him as he remembered from that morning he'd woken up on top of her in the Kents' barn. Before he died.

****

Superman flew back with Wonder Woman, over the beach, to her apartment after their appearance at the Teen Titans party. Seeing Cassie and Connor uninhibitedly demonstrate their affection for each other had affected each of them in their own way.

Superman was thinking about how much he was still attracted to Wonder Woman, only now, it was much better, with the bond of deep affection between them. He thought it was odd that he had enjoyed the evening with her so much, with out a threat to bring them closer. In fact, he had never once thought about Lois and what Lois was doing.

Wonder Woman looked sideways at Superman, thinking for the thousandth time how handsome he was. Thinking that she had enjoyed this evening very much. Jealous that Lois had snared his attention and did not know it. Filled with regret for having had that attention herself, not realizing the value of it and throwing it away.

Lost in thought, they paused now, outside her door. Superman turned to Wonder Woman and looked deep down into her eyes. Eyes that could bare the soul of a man should she wish. He could see the shadow of regret in her eyes. The reason for that intrigued him as much as her face. And brought with it a surge of pure love.

"There are some things that should be grabbed with both hands and taken," Wonder Woman was saying.

Trying to focus on her words, Superman lifted her hand and brought the palm of her hand to his lips. "You may be right, waiting isn't always the best answer."

"Its getting late." Diana pulled her hand free, then balled it into a fist. But that did not stop the heat from searing her arm.

"Are you going to ask me in?"

"No."

"All right." Unable to stop himself, he slipped his arms around her waist.

"Kal…"

"I'm just taking your advice," he murmured as he skimmed his lips over her jaw. "Not being patient." He brought her closer; his mouth brushed her earlobe. "Taking what I want." His teeth scraped over her bottom lip. "Not wasting time."

Then he was crushing his mouth against hers. He could smell the faintest fragrance of jasmine mixed with her own scent about her and knew he could get drunk on that alone. His heightened super senses took in her flavours – rich, exotic, intoxicating. Like the effect of red kryptonite on him. She made him think of smoldering fires, drifting polar winds, warm sunshine, monsoon rain…

And her body was pressed against his in an instantaneous acknowledgement.

Passion didn't bloom, it didn't whisper. It exploded so that even the air around them seemed to shudder with it.

She made him feel reckless. Unaware of what he murmured to her, he raced his lips over her face, coming back, always coming back to her heated, hungry mouth. In one rough stroke, he allowed his self control to slip, moving his hands over her luscious curves.

Her head was spinning. If only she could believe it was her foolishness. But she knew it was he, only Kal who made her dizzy and dazed and desperate. She wanted to be touched. By him. On a breathless moan, she let her head fall back, and the urgent trail of his lips streaked down her throat.

Feeling this way had to be wrong. Old fears and doubts swirled inside her, leaving empty holes that begged to be filled. And when they were filled, with incandescent pleasure, the fear only grew.

"Kal."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders; Diana fought a war between the need to stop him and impossible desire to go on. "Please."

He was as shaken as she and took a moment, burying his face in her hair. "Something happens to me every time I'm with you. I can't explain it."

She wanted badly to hold him against herself, but forced her arms to drop to her sides. "It can't continue to happen."


	6. Chapter 6

_Sunday, 21 February 2010 _

Special Feature: Beauty-sexuals

By Clark Kent, Special Features, The Daily Planet

Photographs by Jimmy Olsen, Photographer, The Daily Planet

It was only the other day that we read a scientific journal stating that nearly 30 per cent of Metropolitan men have admitted to using make-up once in a while. Earlier, we were of the firm opinion that only a few men would want to varnish their nails or use mascara. Out of curiosity, The Daily Planet decided to do our own little survey and the results are interesting. Look at what all the men had to say when we asked, "Do you use women's beauty products?"

**Men say **

"I have a guilty confession – I stole my girlfriend's LL Gels concealer from her bag before she left for work a few months back. I had a really important presentation and had bad dark circles after pub crawling with the guys. So I was desperate to do something about them. I remembered my girlfriend blabbering about her dark circles once and buying concealer, so I snuck it out of her bag and I've been using it ever since, and it actually works. I hope she doesn't read this." **YXW, Stockbroker, 31 **

"Well, we use women's beauty products simply because there aren't enough targeted at men! Personally, I don't see why beauty products should not be targeted at men. In today's day and age, men and women are no different and their beauty products should not be. It's just the strategy beauty companies use to exploit naive customers like us. For instance, there are hardly any moisturizers in the so-called Men's line. So, I end up using Bodacious body lotions or even Neutron Warming Scrub as shaving cream! At the end of the day, everyone uses stuff that makes them feel good and if we men end up smelling nice in the bargain, why complain?" **Sexy Male, Assistant Manager, 42**

"My elder sister is a Bodacious addict and so am I, she never understands why her shower gels, facemasks and body butter get over so quickly. I can't resist them, sometimes I leave the house later than she does so I can have a shower with her shower gels and use those amazing smelling moisturizers. I use her stuff before going out on dates, and I've got a lot of compliments for smelling nice by the way. In fact, the lip moisturizer that I apply has got all the girls wanting to kiss me. They love the feel of my lips on theirs and in other places. The only thing is, I'm too embarrassed to go to the shop and pick them up myself." **Supermale, 28, Student **

"This is real embarrassing. But well, I will say it anyway. I have been sneakily using my mom's under eye cream and her hair serum. Both seem to work wonders and are much better than any of the stuff I have tried out in the men's range. In fact, the other day, I tried out her hand and foot lotion – Skin So Soft. It smelt awesome and it made my dry hands and feet feel real soft! And guess, what? My girl noticed my new soft hands and insists on holding them all the time now. I'm sure I'll be trying out more of my mom's stuff and not telling her. " **Adventure Man, 26, Space Scientist**

The Daily Planet asked the Experts what they think:

Dr. Anushka Stanislaski and Dr. Curtis Twine, dermatologists and founder-directors of Cutesy Bods:

There is no harm if men use cosmetic products meant for women. Men's skin is different from women's and they might not get the optimum results because men's products are more concentrated. There are also some products for men which are very harsh. You know when men shave, it also acts as exfoliation so it is important that men's shaving products to have soothing ingredients like chamomile and lavender. Rose essence has been proven to have extremely good results on men's skin. A lot of men tell me that they love using their girlfriends' or wives products. A lot of women tell me that men 'feel' so much better after their men started using their beauty products.

****

"Hoo, ha, ha," laughed Hal Jordan as he finished reading the latest feature by Clark Kent. Who knew that Superman would write a piece on men using women's beauty products. It was definitely worth teasing Superman the next time he met him. While Hal personally had no objection to anyone using anything at all, he smiled broadly to think of such a macho type investigating women's products. It was worth a few minutes and maybe a punch or two from Superman.

Hal wondered how Clark Kent had ended up doing the features bit for the Sunday edition of The Daily Planet. Usually Lois Lane did a Special Feature. A sudden memory wiped the smile from his face. He was to have been the Sunday Feature!

It was part of his contract – this publicity bit, and God knows, he needed it after being off the circuit for so long. And not only that, the interview had been set up by his new boss and owner. He was going to be in trouble. He supposed that he should have been grateful that someone was trying to give him a break. Hell only knew that he had very few fans left.

Stop it, Hal Jordan, he told himself. Your career hasn't sunk that far yet.

Yeah, the latest headlines had made him look bad. But it'd all blown over. And now he'd found a new job—driving stock cars in the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series—and so his name would soon be front-page news again. Money would start rolling in. Things would get back to normal.

He hoped.

His mobile phone rang, vibrating against his body, while playing the tune, "It's the final countdown."

"Jordan, Hal Jordan," Hal picked up.

"Jordan, it's Fanci. Fanci Webb."

"What is it?" he asked. As if he didn't know already. That stupid Lois Lane. Damn it. He didn't have time for this.

"You should have completed your interview with Lois Lane. Publicity features are part of the deal. As of now, you are in direct violation of your contract."

"I violate contracts all the time."

"Well, not this time. If you do, Sports Management World Wide will have no choice but to fire you as a client." Fanci loved saying the complete name of her company just like that. It sounded so good – Sports Management World Wide.

"Excuse me?"

Fanci groaned under her breath. Another sports star who did not know the full form of the acronym that her company was more familiarly known by.

"SMWW will not tolerate your flagrant disregard of the contract you signed with James Hanngian Enterprises or JHE. If you won't listen to us, we'll have to, um…We'll have to let you go."

"Really?" he asked, crossing his arms, though he knew that his agent could not see him.

"Yes, really," she responded, although in a more uncertain tone.

Suddenly the conversation took a different turn. When she spoke again, the words were delivered with a voice that almost seemed full of concern. "Hal, can we talk candidly?"

"I thought we already were," he replied equally softly. Curious about his new agent, having never met her, Hal did what he almost never did. He used his power ring to show him what Fanci Webb looked like even as she spoke to him.

Did she really have a law degree? he wondered, as his ring showed him her features. He'd have to admit, she looked like an attorney in her tailored pants and no-nonsense blouse. There were dimples in her cheeks, he noticed. Cute dimples. How could such hell on heels have dimples?

He focused on what she was saying.

"Yes, I suppose we are," she said. "Look, I've read your file, and I have to be honest, I don't think it's in your best interest to do something that would cause SMWW to terminate your contract."

"And why's that?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" she asked on a higher note, her brows stretching high. "Do you really have to ask after all the trouble you've been in recent months? Walking out on that open-wheel guy, Hank Mason—the man that owned the Indy 500 car you used to race. Aren't you still in legal trouble with him? Then there's the bad press. You didn't exactly make a good impression at your first NASCAR Sprint Cup Series race last year, did you? And don't forget that you are back on the circuit after a very long break, when no one knew where you disappeared to. You're not king of the racing hill anymore and so I'm thinking you'll have a heck of time finding another agent. I mean, the racing industry will only give you so many chances, right? Surely your time is drawing to an end."

"You think so?" he said, trying hard not to lose control of his quickly rising temper. Bad things occurred when that happened.

Such as fistfights with Ollie. Or his car owner. Or his teammates.

Little cute babies. That's what his anger management counselor had told him to think of whenever he felt his temper slipping out of control. The thing was, he did not feel very uncomfortable with kids when he was angry.

"I do," Fanci said now, and as though she knew that he was peeking, gave a firm little nod of her head.

"Shows you how little you know about the racing industry. I can find a new agent like that," he said, snapping his fingers over the microphone for emphasis. "And a new ride, too."

"Oh, really?" she said. "Because I have to wonder, where are all those offers now? Your file isn't exactly brimming with prime opportunities. We had to practically beg Bold Riders to sponsor you, and in the end they only agreed because your bad-boy reputation fits their corporate image perfectly. Trust me when I say our phone wasn't exactly ringing off the hook when we were trying to find you a car to drive."

"Things will turn around," Hal said, holding on to his patience by the thinnest of threads.

"Oh, yeah? How? You may not be driving a race car for the next several months. Did you skip over the clause in your contract that says if you breach your agreement with JHE, then you can't go drive elsewhere?"

"I don't have time for this," he said again, his cheek beginning to twitch.

"Let's say you do happen to find another job. What will you do when JHE files a lawsuit against you? Because you know they will. Can you afford to fend off another legal dispute?"

"You don't know anything about racing," he said. "And I'm tired of standing here. Either say good bye or let me do that."

"All right, fine," Fanci said. "You're right. I don't know a whole lot about racing, but I do know the law. You'll be in deep trouble if you ignore my advice. But I'm tired of dealing with men who think they rule the world. Go ahead. End this call. Enjoy the race this time. It'll be the last time you drive something fast for a while."

Click. She broke off the connection.

Have fun…it'll be the last time you drive something fast for a while.

Yeah, right. James Hannigan would look the other way when he flagrantly ignored the publicity campaign. Team owners always did.

Can you afford another legal dispute?

So what if he couldn't. He'd be making money hand over fist soon enough.

Not if SMWW doesn't represent you, he thought. Damn. Perhaps he should have accepted Ollie or Bruce's offer to be his owner. They would have understood him. No, he had to do this on his own. And now, he was stuck with this Fanci Webb to represent him as his agent.

*****

Lois Lane finished reading the special features and smiled smugly to herself. Trust Clark to be the one caught to interview men using beauty products. Clark was such a dork. There, she had managed to use the new word that she had picked up from Jimmy. Though to be fair, Jimmy had not used the word in context with Clark. Clark thought that Lois had not picked up on the signals that he was trying to date her. In reality, Lois was actually ignoring Clark and his farm-boy attempts at dating. Now Hal Jordan was the man to die for. The man who made her senses sing. And perhaps, another who could do that, though only time would tell, was the man she was going to interview tomorrow afternoon, the billionaire philanthropist, Bruce Wayne.

*****

Clark smiled as he put the paper down. He was going to have to take a lot of ribbing for doing this special feature. But it had been fun. And it appealed to his sense of humor. Maybe next time, he would do a special feature on the Ambassador from Themyscira, Wonder Woman, and the work on women's shelters. That would give them the publicity they needed, would highlight the work done and would give him a chance to spend the day with Diana.

******

Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist, and feared guardian of Gotham, in his Batman persona, allowed the corners of his lips to quirk with amusement just a little bit. His news system constantly scoured cyberspace for articles and news snippets about meta-humans. This one had been highlighted because it had Clark Kent's byline. The story was amusing. It was worth mentioning to Clark the next time he spoke to him. Just slip it into the conversation. He was momentarily distracted by his dairy, which now popped up onto the screen – he was to meet Lois Lane for an interview tomorrow. She was an interesting woman and Clark seemed to be fascinated by her. Would he object if Bruce made a play for her? Or was she already spoken for? Were Clark and Lois dating? An interesting combination if they were. Only one way to find out, he mused, and activated the tele-communicator for Clark Kent.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SIX

"_Whatever women do, they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. __Luckily, this is not difficult." _  
– Charlotte Whitton, feminist

Metropolis was always a thrill, and though Cassie had been here before, she had never ever been here on leisure. If that was a word that you could use with Metropolis. Cassie was thrilled to be here and though she didn't want to behave like a slack-jawed tourist, she intended to enjoy every minute of it. It was really, the first time that she was here in a purely non-crisis mode.

There were important things to do, and vital business to attend to, but that didn't mean she couldn't hug the excitement of being theretight against her.

It was exciting. The sleek towers of buildings, the acres of shops, the fast and crowded streets, people bustling past. She sneaked a look at her watch. A quick flick of her wrist and Wonder Girl was ready. It was time to meet her date.

He was sitting, legs stretched out, cape fluttering in the breeze, with his hands folded restfully over his stomach.

She flew up from behind him, started to tap him on the shoulder, snatched her hand back.

Perhaps he wouldn't like the familiarity.

"Hello, Cassie," Superman murmured.

She flushed, shrugged. "I was just wondering if you knew I was here."

"I did. Also, since we agreed to meet here, on the top of The Daily Planet building, I was expecting you. Do you want to talk here? Or do you want to come over to the apartment I live in?"

Cassie was surprised. Was Superman going to share a part of his life with her? Inviting her to his apartment where he lived as Clark Kent!

Her sense of excitement grew. This was Superman, after all. Then she sobered. Had Diana been to the apartment, too?

But she was dying to take a peek at how Superman lived, dying to compare, dying to see what Connor never spoke about.

So she simply said, "Yes. I'd like to visit your apartment."

It didn't look like much, she mused as she stepped through the window into his apartment. Still it seemed a sturdy sort of place to her, and pitted with character. "I would have thought you lived alone," she said, looking around.

"I do,"

"No, I mean to say not in an apartment building that has neighbors."

"I do," Superman said again. "I have the only apartment in the building."

"It seems awfully big not to make use of the other space."

"I make use of it."

Wonder Girl looked around her. There was an elevator that opened into the foyer to the living room. "The living space itself had a floor with wide, dark planks, biscuit-colored walls, wide windows and artifacts from all over the world.

"You've made use of this space right enough," she said.

There were gorgeous old rugs. Tapestries from another time altogether. Rich Indian silks with thick gold thread running through them. It was a subtle blend of colors which accented the deep hues and deep cushions of the sofas, the chairs, even the heavy polished wood. And there were artifacts from every known civilization in the world. Her eyes narrowed – on the wall facing her was a Themysciran scroll, the twin of which was in Diana's bedroom. She knew what that scroll outlined. It was an ancient text titled, "The Penalities of Leadership." She didn't know that it had a twin. And that Superman had that twin. She concealed a smile.

She wandered around, noting first it was tidy, then that it was tasteful. And last that it was stylish. She liked the wavy glass-like blocks that separated the kitchen from the liv ing space, and the framed arches that led to what she sup posed were hallways and bedrooms.

"It seems a lot of room for a single man."

"I don't like to be crowded," Superman couldn't resist talking about the apartment. Unconsciously, a note of pride crept into his voice. "There's space here for a study for me, like a small office that I can use. Three bedrooms – one for me, two for guests… I've even got a gym and fitness centre that is equipped with machinery made from Kryptonian metals and can simulate a red sun's rays. It can also simulate tough opponents, battle scenes and combat styles from other planets, including Earth. And, of course, there's another room for communication links and monitoring purposes."

Cassie thought about that. Then she nodded, turned back. Yes, she thought, it suited him. A clever and unusual space for a clever and unusual man, no a Superman.

"All right, Wonder Girl. What is it that you want to talk about?" Superman was looking at her with those deep, penetratingly blue eyes.

"I needed a word with you," she responded. She smiled warmly at him, her lashes fluttering, but her eyes were cold steel.

Superman picked up the underlying emotion. And responded instantly. The room reverberated with ominous control.

Wonder Girl took stock of the situation and the room. One way in and out, she thought, reflecting the training that Artemis had put her through. There were more areas to trap a person than physical dimensions. It might be wise to set up a few measures here. If a you didn't anticipate a war, you always lost the battle – that was Phillipus speaking now.

"Well, then," said Superman, "first things first."

"I wanted to talk about Diana."

Superman acknowledged this with a nod. "So it would be."

"Please, Superman. Stop sounding like Batman. You don't know why I came here, do you?" Wonder Girl was cool, but let a hint of her temper show.

Superman simply smiled. "Go ahead. Speak your mind."

"I think that you need to be careful with her. She cares deeply enough about you. She needs some softness. Look what happened with Nemesis. She was really fond of Tom, even her feelings show, and look what happened. She was hurt badly by his last minute change of mind. I wish I could have punched him on the jaw. I won't let her get hurt again."

"Be careful. Won't." Superman turned his back on Wonder Girl for a moment, then turned back to face her. "If you've used those words with Diana very often, I bet you've has some interesting moments."

"True. But she's my sister. She's always been there for me. She's not meant to be weak, she's strong."

"I know," said Superman. "She's compassionate. And she's intellgient. I like her brain. I like her face," he added, eyes direct on Wonder Girl's. "I like the whole pack age. That's a problem for you, her being your sister. I would feel the same about Kara."

Wonder Girl smiled. Superman was so honest. So like a boy scout.

"Let's put it this way. The choice will always be with Diana" Superman was saying now. "Her choice. It stays her choice, either way. Long ago, when I met Queen Hippolyta, I gave her my word that I'd take care of her. I don't break my word. Not to someone I respect anyway."

Wonder Girl relaxed now. Maybe she could trust Superman. Just like she trusted Connor.

They had the same genes after all. Maybe Superman had them a little more, what with not being a clone and all. She believed that he was as good as his word. Had yet to hear anything or anyone say otherwise.

She continued, "I haven't spoken to Diana about this meeting. Nor to Donna. They would tell me not to interfere. I guess I'm still an impulsive, head strong girl who—"

"I love her."

Wonder Girl's eyes widened, her thoughts scattered. "What? You never showed any feeling."

"I love her. How could I not? She's been one of the few best friends I have. Someone who's not afraid to speak her mind, not afraid to tell me I'm wrong. She's courageous, humorous, compassionate and forgiving." He paused.

"And that's all that I'm going to tell you. The rest is between me and her. But you can stop worrying that I'll let anything or anyone hurt her. In cluding myself. I care about her too much. Is that enough for you?"

Wonder Girl smiled more fully this time. It was hard not to just love Superman when he was so opena and so vulnerable. She walked up to Superman just now and gently placed a kiss on his cheek. "Be good to my sister," she whispered. "Or I'll make your life a living hell. Ask Ares. I can do it."

****

Fanci Webb was in a bad mood. Hal Jordan was bad for her career.

Fanci knew this the way she knew blondes got all the guys and brunettes all the leftovers.

She told herself not to think about it as she rode the subway into work the Monday after Hal Jordan's race, her LV purse slung over one shoulder. The train was, as usual, packed with wall-to-wall people. After she got off the train, she walked to the offices of SMWW which were located on the east side of the city. The building where she worked loomed over her as she darted out of the way of a taxicab.

Maybe I should have stayed at home. Her boss, Julian Raine didn't need to see her to fire her, right? She could have stayed in bed, read a book, eaten a box of chocolates. Preferably some of Guylian or Lindt Lindor milk chocolates. Mmmmmmmmm…

Go on, Fanci. No sense in delaying the inevitable.

She reluctantly entered the building and took the elevator to the twelfth floor. The double doors that led to the office's hallowed halls displayed the company's logo, the SMWW letters jutting out like the S on a Superman T-shirt. She'd been impressed when she'd first spotted the massive front desk with its half-round front and marble top three months ago when she'd started the job. Behind a harried-looking receptionist was a wall with a door to the left of it. Behind the glass, executive assistants, office clerks and junior agents moved between shoulder-high cubicle walls. Senior agents sat in offices that were set around the perimeter wall, the glass fronts allowing the assistants to see their bosses, and sunlight to filter in from outside. Fanci headed to the far right corner and her own cubicle just outside of Julian's spacious office.

Julian, her erstwhile boss, was busy tossing a basketball into a miniature hoop attached to a bookshelf across from his desk. He'd removed his black jacket; Fanci could see it hanging off the back of his chair. His lips moved nonstop, the headset on his head glowing red, which told Fanci he was on the phone.

There was a yellow Post-it note on her desk.

See me.

She sank into her office chair.

Damn.

Her eyes skated around the beige-colored cubicle. Her gaze focused on the picture of her parents she'd pinned to the fabric-covered walls. She stared at the stern countenance of her mom and dad. Mom, with her stunning good looks smiling serenely. Dad, with his distinguished gray head held high and solemn expression. The photo had been taken at a posh restaurant, right after she'd told her mom and dad that she didn't want to join Webb & Masters, which had been founded by her parents and was one of the worlds most exclusive legal firms. She wanted to do something fun with her degree. Something different.

They hadn't approved.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone beeping. Julian's deep baritone all but roared over the intercom. "Fanci, front and center."

Two weeks ago Fanci would have complied tacitly. Today she snapped, "Aye aye, Captain," without missing a beat. Maybe dealing with Hal Jordan had taught her to be more aggressive. Or maybe, like any condemned prisoner, she recognized she had nothing to lose by talking back.

She slid her purse off her shoulder, straightened her suit, slipped off the tennis shoes she wore while commuting and slid on the heels she wore around the office.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, entering Julian's office.

"Sit down," Julian said, his bright blue gaze eyeing her up and down, manicured hands drumming on his dark oak desk. He always scoped her out. At first Fanci had thought he was coming on to her, but she'd quickly learned he was merely giving her the once-over. Julian put great stock in appearances. When she'd come to work one day in casual pants and a cotton shirt, his ocular scan had been followed by a lip-curling grimace of distaste. She'd taken the hint.

"Hal Jordan called me last evening," he said without preamble.

"Oh, yeah?" Fanci asked, her ribs vibrating beneath the assault of her heart.

Julian nodded, then leaned back in his chair. The thing creaked in protest. Fanci had a mental image of it tipping over backward, Julian's loafers thrust skyward as he tumbled over into the credenza behind him.

"Good work."

Huh?

Julian smiled now, his arms lifting as he hooked his hands behind his neck. "Hauling him over hot coals on the telephone. Genius. I laughed my ass off."

Fanci blinked, thinking for an instant that she couldn't have heard him correctly.

"Jordan gave me an earful," he continued, the smile turning into a smirk. "The jerk wanted me to fire you."

"But you're not?" she asked in a weak voice.

"Hell, no," he said, leaning forward so suddenly the wheels of his chair slapped the plastic carpet protector. "You got him to change his mind about publicity."

"I did?"

Julian didn't say anything for a moment. "You mean, you didn't know?"

She shook her head. "After disconnecting the conversation, I pretty much chilled out."

"No wonder he was so pissed off." Julian picked up a pen off his desk, signing his name with a flourish at the bottom of a sheet of paper. "Here," he said, sliding the page across his desk. "Take this to accounting."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a cash advance approval form. You're going to need some money and a company credit card."

"Uh, why?"

"For managing Jordan," he said. That was the thing about Julian. He always assumed she could read his mind. It drove her nuts.

"And how, exactly, will I be managing Jordan?"

He glanced up at her, giving her a look that made her feel stupid. That was the other thing about Julian. He couldn't be bothered to explain things.

"You're going down to North Carolina," he said, each word pronounced succinctly, as if Fanci was hard of hearing. "And keeping an eye on him."

"North Carolina?"

He shook his head, looked toward the heavens as if seeking help from above. Fanci felt sorry for his girlfriend—the one whose picture sat on the credenza behind him. The woman must be a saint to put up with Julian.

"You'll be staying in North Carolina for the next few weeks. You've gotten a promotion, Fanci. You're a junior agent, and your first client, your only client, is Hal Jordan."

****

Connor knocked on Diana's door. Themyscira House always had him in awe. It was as if he felt the breath of Zeus on his neck. And he had been here many times, with Cassie whenever she was visiting, which was often. This time, though, was different. He was here to meet Diana. And he was terrified.

He waited to hear Diana bidding him to enter, and not hearing anything, started to turn the knob of the office door, then stopped.

Heck, Diana scared even the Batman, and that was one scary dude. And Superman had been known to say that he didn't want to cross swords with Diana. Connor didn't even want to think about that metaphor and what it meant.

He took a deep breath, calming himself. Then, he knocked briskly again, and opened the door without waiting for an invitation.

Diana lay on her back, on a yoga mat. She wasn't even sweating as she put herself through the most difficult body contortions. "Connor," she said, not even missing a breath. "Come in. What's on your mind?"

"I needed to talk to you," Connor said.

"Is this about Cassie?" Diana didn't even stop her yogic moves.

"Kind of."

"Ok, what's bothering you?"

Direct and to the point, as usual, thought Connor wryly.

"Firstly, I've been thinking about a lot of things since I came back. I'm still confused. And given a chance, I don't know if I might have done exactly the same things again. I wouldn't be proud of it, would look back from here and see all the places where I went wrong, when I should've turned right instead of left. But that wouldn't change anything, would it?"

Concerned at the confusion in the young man's tone, Diana stopped exercising and sat up. "Connor," she began, "what is this about exactly?"

"I wanted to know if you finally approve of Cassie and me." There, that was out now, thought Connor. "I really like her. And I know she likes me. But she thinks the world of you, and I know that whenever you've caught us together, you've been mad at me. Cassie's had a hell of a time, and I'm part of the reason why. Not that she's a doormat or a fool, but she's more inclined to say what she thinks and is often annoyed everyone doesn't do the same. She has a refined sense of fair play, like you and Donna. And me, I'm half-devious, thanks to Lex."

Diana raised one beautiful brow and said, "Lex would think that people who play fair mostly lose."

"Don't they just?" Connor laughed a little and he dared to allow himself to relax with her. Just a little bit.

Then she continued, "But when they win, they win clean. That matters to Cassie. You matter to her."

"And?" he said, hope lighting his face as Diana allowed herself to sense the torment in the young man and the truth.

"I know my sister, so I know that. But not knowing you so well, I have to ask. Does she matter to you?"

He tried to move from under her penetrating gaze, but she held it firmly, not even exerting herself. "I wont let her down."

"That wasn't my question. Does she matter to you?"

"Yeah, I guess she does."

"Then I'll give you a piece of advice. Fight for her. Use all the love that you have within you until you've burned her out, resistance-wise. Don't let yourself down. Don't let her down. Either works with her." She lay down again. "Would that be too much for you?"

"Nope."

"Gaea go with you, Connor."

He turned to leave and turned back to Diana, who was concentrating on her breathing and did not notice him turn.

"How do you feel about Kal?" Connor said.


	8. Chapter 8

It couldn't have been possible. Lois Lane shouldn't have been sitting at a classy fine dining restaurant, overlooking shimmering diamonds that were city lights, at eleven at night in a city thousands of miles from home. Certainly she shouldn't have been sitting across from a man so ridiculously handsome she had to fight the urge to glance around to be sure he wasn't talking to someone else.

His wonderful head of dark black hair fluttered around his temples in the steady breeze. It waved a bit, that hair, and caught glints of the light. His face was smooth and narrow with just a hint of hollows in the cheeks. His mouth, mobile and firm, could light into a smile designed to make a woman's pulse flutter.

It certainly worked on hers.

His eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes, arched over by expressive brows. But it was the eyes themselves that captivated her. They were still navy blue ponds, un-rippling water, un-blinking, un-winking, deep pools of evening in which she could lose her soul. And they stayed fixed on hers when she spoke. Not in a probing, uncom fortable way. But an interested one.

She'd had men look at her with interest before. She wasn't ugly, after all, she reminded herself. Next to men like Superman and Hal Jordan, even Miss Universe would feel inadequate. But some how Bruce Wayne managed to make her feel very different.

She should have been nervous, but she wasn't. Not re ally. She told herself it was because he was so obviously a gentleman, in both manner and dress. He spoke well, seemed so at ease with himself. The stone-gray business suit fit his tall, muscled form perfectly.

Her father would have approved.

She sipped her second cup of decaf coffee and won dered what generous gift of fate had put him in her path. They were talking of his philanthropic work again, but she didn't mind. It was easier to talk of good deeds than of per sonal things.

The details of the interviews weren't something that she needed to talk about with him just now. Being the Features Editor meant that she had a few assistants as staff writers and they were currently doing research even as her Instaport sent them the quick message or so. The final article would, of course, be vetted by Bruce's impeccable and formidable PR firm.

"Thank you for meeting me and agreeing to this interview. You're normally known as the most elusive bachelor in town. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how much this feature will mean to our readers."

"You're very welcome," Bruce said. "The feature will highlight the work done by Wayne Corp. in the field of sustainable human development. We are extremely conscious of our role and ensure that we adhere to triple bottom line reporting on the Global Reporting Index for Human Development. While we do a lot of charity work and intend to still continue these projects, our focus is on creating livelihoods for people. You know the old saying, Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for the rest of his life."

He'd ordered a bottle of sparkling mineral water to sip on after dinner and now, he lifted a glass to toast Lois. .

"To winning combinations," he said.

She nodded and tipped the rim of her coffee cup toward him. Their glassware clinked together and she looked into his eyes as she took another sip. He watched her the entire time, which she thought was interesting. He seemed like someone who was shallow and only concerned about his own needs, but he was definitely paying attention to her. He watched every expression on her face and she felt as if he wanted to make sure she enjoyed herself tonight. That was out of character for the man she'd heard about.

When she returned her cup to its saucer, she smiled at him. "I like this coffee bean. Thank you for recommending it."

"Well, it has a bite, so I thought it might suit you."

She had to laugh at the way he said it. She knew she came across as a man-eater when she was in business mode. But tonight she wanted to enjoy the opportunity to just get to know Bruce.

It hadn't taken long for her to notice that Bruce always deflected the questions she asked about his family or friends. Not that it mattered—she was not known as the sleuth of newsprint for nothing, either her staff or she would get to him.

"Tell me more about yourself," he asked as he took another sip of mineral water.

She wondered if she knew of any other playboy who never drank alcohol. She'd remember her that for her article.

But she needed to respond to Bruce, so Lois said, "I used to work as a freelance writer earlier. But it's hard to pay the bills with freelance gigs only, so I transitioned to a Features Columnist position at _Business Quarterly. _While I was there, I wrote a piece on the Young Presidents Organization – about young guns—men under thirty who were changing and shaping the way businesses were being managed."

"I know that organization," Bruce said tersely.

Lois looked at him, "Ah, yes, I recall that you refused to accept their invitation to join them."

"You've done your homework well."

She agreed pleasantly, thinking back. That article had put her on the map, so to speak, and given her a chance to start fresh. "The Daily Planet called – Perry White himself – and offered me a full-time position as a Features Editor and Staff Reporter. Once I started editing—which is very different from writing—I found that I loved it."

"As much as writing?" he asked.

She shrugged, but then she decided, why not tell him. "Some days but what I loved about writing was the discovery, digging deeper and asking questions that surprised the people being interviewed. Not in a bad way, but just in a way that pushed them to examine and expand their own responses. I liked that."

"Surely you still write news?" asked Bruce.

No one ever thought to ask her that, she observed. The truth was there were times when she wrote less than she edited, times when she missed covering the beat.

"Not as much as I'd like to. I earned the position of Chief Reporter after I won the Pulitzer Prize. And I'm still in charge of our entire Features section."

"Do you like being the boss?" he asked.

"Love it," she said, with a grin.

She hadn't realized until she'd gotten into the swing of Special Features that she really loved the competitive nature of her industry. It had also helped her focus on staying healthy. Working in journalism had made her very aware that she had to be fit. So she worked out every day. And just to inspire herself to greater fitness heights, she had tacked a full-size color poster of Wonder Woman onto her refrigerator door. It helped that she couldn't cook either, mused Lois.

"But enough about me," Lois continued. "You must be looking at a huge challenge to amalgamate Wayne Property Developers & Investors and Wayne Enterprises. Will you be running the merger? Or will you step down?"

"No, I don't think I ever will. But I will delegate more. I trust Lucien fully on all aspects of business."

"How did you build up Wayne Corp?" she asked. He was more open when she asked him about business. That was another interesting note that she mentally tucked away to examine later.

"It's my own company. As you probably already know, my father started a small medical research company with two patents. I took it over when I was young and with the help of a trusted team, made it into the success it is today. There's a certain sense of pride of doing that comes with that."

Bruce felt a sense of wonder on admitting that. He had not even shared that feeling with Alfred or Dick.

Lois nodded. "I'd heard you took over the company from your father's advisors who were running it for you."

"Indeed. I was looking for something to do after college."

"Did you bum around Europe?" she asked. She couldn't see that. Bruce didn't seem like the type of man who would be able to just drift.

"No. I spent a few years travelling the world – places like Nepal, India, Japan, Egypt, Switzerland fascinated me. I spent many years learning many different things. Mostly to do with physical fitness. I left the company in the hands of men my father had trusted. When my father's chief advisor wanted to retire, I jumped at the challenge it represented."

She thought about that. About what it said about Bruce that he was the kind of man who could take a few years off to do training in physical fitness. That was tough work. Not the kind of stuff she would have expected Bruce Wayne to do.

"I guess that's a good thing," she said.

He signaled the waiter and asked for the check. She took her platinum card from her wallet, intending to pay for the evening, but he gave her a look that made her put it back.

"I have an expense account and this isn't a date," she said.

"Who said?"

Bruce found that behind the slim-fitting clothes, Lois was a very interesting woman. He wanted to know more about her. He wouldn't have minded spending more time talking to her. He liked her insights and the way she looked at him.

Which is why he had first gotten the all-clear from Clark. No man in his right mind, not even the Batman, wanted Superman mad at him.

For such a long time, Bruce had felt as if he were a hollow shell of a man. A man who had only two dimensions: business and fighting crime. Sometimes it was only one dimension – fighting crime, keeping innocent people safe. But with Lois…well, she made him wonder if he had been wrong to keep such a distance between himself and others.

Or maybe this was just the first blush of attraction—that potent combination of lust and intrigue. She was a mystery to him. A woman unlike others he'd met and seduced.

In her, there was a sort of innocence—she seemed to be aware of her appeal to the opposite sex but she handled it well. Men stared at her as she preceded him out of the restaurant, but she ignored their looks. He glared at one man who stared too long and then put his hand on the small of her back.

She was with him.

He was glad that he'd thought to confirm that The Daily Planet should do articles on him to publicize the philanthropic work that Wayne Corp was doing. That would give him a reason to keep in touch with her.

He was going to ask her out again—that was a given. He needed to have her in his bed. He wanted to see if her mysteries would be solved by having sex. He'd found in the past that the appeal of a lot of the women he'd dated vanished after he'd bedded them. He hoped that it wouldn't be the same with Lois. And yet a part of him believed that it would be. That she'd be like every other relationship in his life. He was used to expecting nothing from them.

"Why are you helping me walk out of the restaurant?" she asked.

"So every man in the place knows that you are with me."

"Am I with you, Bruce?"

"Yes, you are."

"Just for tonight?"

"No. I want to have you by my side again. I have to go to a fund raising dinner next Thursday evening. Would you like to accompany me?"

They stepped out into the February evening. It was damp and chilly and Lois shivered. If they had a different kind of relationship, he would have wrapped his arm around her. But then, he thought, to hell with that. He put his arm over her shoulder and drew her against the curve of his body. She shuddered and looked up at him.

He read the same desire in her expression that he'd been battling all night. Her eyes revealed that she was thinking of him as a man—not an interviewee—and he knew that he wanted to keep that interest alive.

With the gentle pressure of his arm on her shoulder, he steered her down the street to where his limousine was parked. When they got to his car, she stopped and turned, trapped between his body and his vehicle.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. Her voice was soft and low. There was none of the confident executive that he'd met earlier this evening. Instead, there was a woman who showed him a hint of vulnerability. And that touched him.

He brushed the softer emotions aside—he didn't like them. He touched the rounded apples of her cheeks, ran his finger over that arch down toward her ear. "Right now I want a kiss."

"Just one?" she asked. She licked her lips, a slow sensual movement of her tongue that made him groan inside. Her tongue was delicate and pink and he wanted to feel it on his skin. He wanted her to taste him the same way. And he needed to taste her in return.

With those full lips and her sexy smile…What would she taste like?

"To start," he said.

He traced the line of her neck with his fingertip and along the hairline of her high ponytail where her hair met her skin. She shivered a little and licked her lips again. Then she leaned toward him, not close enough that their bodies brushed, but closer.

He kept his light touch on her face. Just taking his time. All the best things in life took time. He'd never gone for instant gratification, but this time he was tempted to. He made himself wait, though. Patience always paid off.

He traced the vee at the top of her blouse. Her breasts were large, full and he didn't come close to touching them, but he wanted to. Instead, he contented himself with the soft tender skin of her chest, that area exposed by her blouse.

Then he leaned toward her and she tipped her head back and went up on her toes. He looked down into her upturned face. Her eyes were half closed and he had that momentary surge of lust that always assailed him when he was close to tasting a new woman.

She put her hands on his shoulders as he hesitated, drawing out the moment, and lifted herself even higher so that he felt the brush of her warm breath against his mouth. But he pulled back.

He would decide when they had their first kiss. He would set the tone and the timbre of the embrace. And he wanted to make sure that Lois knew he was in charge.

Starting where he'd first touched her with his finger, he followed the same path with his lips, caressing his way with nibbling kisses to her ear.

He blew gently into her ear. "Do you want me?"

"Yes…"

"Good."


	9. Chapter 9

_Thursday, March 4, 2010_

_**Interview with Wonder Woman at HER Residence, Metropolis**_

_**By Clark Kent, Staff Reporter , The Daily Planet**_

_**Photographs by Jimmy Olsen, Photographer, The Daily Planet**_

A **women's shelter** is a place of temporary refuge and support for women escaping domestic situations, which may include unwed pregnancies, abandonment, domestic violence, rape, mental abuse or even stressful situations. Under the leadership of Wonder Woman, the Ambassador of Themyscira, the women's shelters set up by her Mission have taken on a new meaning.

Better known under the acronym HER, which expands to Hope Empower Rehabilitate, each Residence is an independent, non-profit community, with comprehensive programs to help women under their roofs. Dedicated staff, volunteers, and licensed professionals work together to provide a comprehensive program to an average of 15,000 women each year, across the globe.

Wonder Woman encourages young women of all ages to volunteer and participate in the Outreach program at each HER Residence. Wonder Woman, when interviewed about her vision for the Outreach program, said, "Volunteers are an integral part of our mission: we could not do the work that we do without help from our volunteers. By volunteering at a HER Residence, you can support and help women who may have stopped believing that there is good in the world."

The Daily Planet visited HER Residence in Metropolis. Clearly, the women and the volunteers have a healthy relationship and share many experiences and can learn from each other. Each HER Residence allows for group time and activity. This gives the women a chance to focus solely on themselves. "They spend so much time worrying about so many different things: getting housing, child care, fearing the future," Wonder Woman says. "It's not often they realize they are important, that they need to take time out for themselves, to get in touch with their inner selves. I think, with the HER Residences, we are beginning to accomplish that."

The focus of the HER Residences Mission is, "To provide a safe environment for women in crisis and the necessary resources to build strong and healthy lives, while infusing them with hope." The ultimate goal is to bring about lasting change in the lives of women in crisis; to help them build stronger, more productive lives.

Women at HER Residence may participate in the program for up to two years, while residing there. The women transition from recovering, finding employment, beginning to save money as immediate issues to longer term issues such as reuniting with family members, cleaning up financial and legal matters and continuing their education.

Counseling sessions and group therapy are included in the daily and sometimes, nightly routines. It takes tremendous dedication and determination on the part of the women. Gradually, and at their own pace, these women are reintroduced to society as job-holders (and sometimes even homeowners) who are active and contributing members of the community.

**The Daily Planet took the opportunity to meet ****Suzie Khan (name changed), Teenage Unwed Mother at HER (Hope Empower Rehabilitate) Residence, Metropolis**

_Note: Names have been changed to protect the identity of the people concerned_

It's just 18 degrees outside, but Suzie Khan, 17, wears bright-pink flip-flops with faded, frayed jeans. She looks like any other junior as she hoists a backpack over one shoulder and weaves through the throng of teenagers changing classes at ABC High School, Metropolis. Then, as she enters the school's brightly lit cafeteria, she spots her case-worker, who's come with her infant son for a lunchtime visit. "Tommy!" Suzie cooed as she rushed over to make sure her baby's snowsuit is snug.

By now, 18 months after giving birth to Tommy, Suzie is accustomed to her demanding dual existence: By day she tackles Calculus and other college-prep courses; by night she changes diapers and reads nursery rhymes to her baby.

But, as Suzie's HER Residence 'big sister', Zarine, 43, notes with considerable understatement, "It's no picnic."

When she started high school, Suzie was on the clean-scrubbed side of average: she played the keyboard in the school band, earned A's, and hung out with friends who shunned drugs and alcohol in favor of movies and the mall.

But she soon started dating a sophomore from a nearby town. A few months later, at 15, she was one of the first among her friends to have sex. Although reluctant to say much about the boy, Suzie recalls that 'he was real sweet to me -- I thought we were in love.' She'd learned about birth control in junior high health classes, but somehow never thought of using it. "It just happened," she says of their sexual relationship.

By spring she was pregnant -- and terrified. She feared disappointing her real-life parents, who cared for Suzie's siblings while working as a hospital administrator (mother – Joan), and a Courier2U overnight package handler (father - Paul). Instead, she told only her boyfriend and the two fantasized in secret about raising their baby together.

It was at Suzie's 16th birthday party that her mother first registered her daughter's weight gain and realized with a jolt that the girl might be pregnant. She confronted her daughter and a home test confirmed her condition a week later. "I was heartbroken," says Joan, who blames herself for letting Suzie go on dates in the boy's car and for not making sure she had contraception. "And angry," she adds. "I said, 'I'm _not_ taking care of another baby! My diaper days are over'" Joan suggested abortion, but Suzie was already four months along and wouldn't hear of it.

"We were pretty worried," admits dad Paul, 43. "She couldn't put her own socks in the laundry basket. How was she gonna take care of a baby?"

But their daughter surprised them by joining Dove, a weekly support group run through HER Residences that helps teen mothers learn about childcare, prevent additional pregnancies, and complete their education.

Suzie quit the school band and began playing classical music to her unborn baby. And she steeled herself against gossip when she returned, hugely pregnant, to school in fall 2009 – an anomaly in the high-achieving student body of nearly 900. "They thought I slept around and called me names," says Suzie.

After Tommy was born in October, Suzie missed two weeks of school; on her return her grades slipped and her friends drifted away ("We don't have anything in common anymore").

She slept little and breastfed for six weeks while tackling chemistry and Mandarin II. She felt ostracized, but too exhausted to care. "I don't think I could have done it," says Paul. "She held her head high and kept her chin up."

The Khan household has worked around including little Tommy almost seamlessly, with help from the volunteers at HER Residence. DOVE helps out with medical assistance and financial aid.

Suzie is determined to go to college, and committed to obtaining a scholarship to help with tuition. DOVE will continue to help with childcare until Suzie finds a job. "Tommy is adorable, but this situation should _not_ be glamorized," warns Zarine. "He should've been born 10 years from now."

Suzie, who no longer dates and only occasionally goes out, agrees. Even when showing off baby pictures to other teens at school, she is a soft-spoken but firm advocate of abstinence and birth control. "My main point is _don't do it_," she says of having sex in high school, "but if you're going to anyway, be safe." She sighs, then adds, "I wish I would've waited."

**The Daily Planet looks at the Statistics:**

1. After dropping 45% between 1991 and 2008, the birth rate among 15- to 19-year-old U.S. girls rose 3% in 2009 to 34%.

2. 35% of young women become pregnant at least once before age 20; 82% of the pregnancies are unintended. More than half give birth; roughly a third terminate the pregnancy; about 16% miscarry; fewer than 12% of those who give birth put their babies up for adoption.

3. Teens are waiting longer to have sex than they did in the mid-1990s, but 52% of all U.S. 15- to 19-year-olds have had sex at least once. The average age for first-time sex is 17.

Metropolis has the third-highest rates of teen pregnancy and births in the United States of America

Only about a third of teen mothers ever complete high school; nearly 80% of unmarried teen mothers end up on welfare

(This is the sixth article in our continuing series, Be Aware, Metropolis)

****

"Nice article, Clark," said Lois as Clark Kent walked into the offices of The Daily Planet, munching on his favorite pretzel. "Do you have some more pretzels to share?"

Clark grinned.

It had been a wonderful time, discussing HER Residences with Diana. She had been totally divine – glowing with compassion, exuding confidence and radiating such love, that he had felt humbled in her presence.

And the chance to talk to the residents and listen to their stories had warmed his heart. Right then, he had vowed to do all he could as Clark to create public awareness and as Superman to be affiliated to HER Residences.

Responding to Lois' question, he said, "Sure, Lois. And thanks for giving me the chance to meet with Wonder Woman. She's really a wonder. She's doing fabulous work. How does she manage to juggle so many things? Her role as Ambassador, her work at the HER Residences, her Mission, her…"

"…her beauty, her brains, her body," interrupted Lois wryly. "Admit it, Clark. Any normal hot blooded male would die for a chance to be with Wonder Woman."

"Well, now that you put it that way, I really, really enjoyed it. Can we do a follow-up, anytime, soon?" Clark asked, not too eagerly, he hoped.

He was also pleasantly surprised. He was not looking for Lois' reaction to his wanting to spend time with Diana. He was genuinely looking forward to spending time with Diana.

And he was struck by a sudden realization.

He wanted to spend time with Diana, not just as Superman, but also as Clark. And the few occasions that Clark had spent time with Diana, he had loved it.

Lois watched the play of emotions on Clark's face and sighed. Another one had slipped past her. She would miss Clark's puppy-dog attention. It always helped to cheer her up when she was low. She sincerely hoped that his new-found infatuation for the Wonder Woman, the Ambassador of Themyscira would not end with Clark getting hurt.

She was genuinely fond of him, even if he was a dork and hopelessly unfashionable.

Would Wonder Woman even notice Clark's infatuation?

Well, if she did not treat him kindly, Lois would have a few words with her. Wonder Woman or not, Clark was Clark. And Lois was damned fond of him.

She suddenly realized that Clark had shifted his gaze so that she was looking into his eyes. As she met the gleam in his clear blue eyes, she laughed self-consciously.

"How was your interview with Bruce Wayne?" Clark was asking her.

"The interview went well, lots of insights into the man. He's far deeper than he reveals and I keep getting the feeling that there's another side to him," Lois replied pensively.

She didn't share that Bruce and she had spent the rest of the night exploring their mutually strong attraction to each other. No point analyzing what had happened, she told herself briskly. They'd had sex and it had been very enjoyable. Bruce was a winner in bed.

Clark smiled at Lois. "Some people have all the luck – wined and dined by Gotham's most eligible playboy. You've just got what it takes," he said encouragingly.

"Have I told you that you're utterly devoted and sweet as a friend and you'll make me very conceited?" she responded playfully.

"Yes, a few times." His eyes were warm and teasing and she blushed.

Clark noticed the blush. His super senses had picked up Lois' heightened senses. And he knew that Bruce and she had spent the night together. Bruce had been honest enough with him.

Clark had warned Bruce not to hurt Lois. Not to tangle with her. Not woo her and then discard her, like he did with all the women he went out with.

All Bruce had said was, "Get out. You had your chance with Lois and you didn't want her. Now I've got her. Let me deal with her."

But this time, Bruce was wrong, Clark thought. Clark had never really wanted Lois in the first place.

A familiar ultra-sonic whine cut off Clark's thoughts. Jimmy was in trouble or needed help.

Turning to Lois, he said, "Looks like those pretzels upset my stomach. I need to use the Men's Room."

And with that, he rushed out, in the general direction of the Men's Room.

Lois sighed.

Clark was the only person she knew who could get a tummy upset from a pretzel.

****

_Friday, March 5, 2010_

**Man delivers child on way to hospital**

_**First person account**_

_**By Clark Kent, Staff Reporter , The Daily Planet**_

_**Photographs by Jimmy Olsen, Photographer, The Daily Planet**_

I must say that this is one of the more unusual stories that I have covered in my career.

Aran was 27 years old when he learned that his wife, Donna, was 3 months pregnant with their first child. Aran was thrilled. He says, "I've always heard horror stories about the labor room and was apprehensive about being there myself. On March 4, 2010, it was finally my turn."

It was Thursday afternoon and Aran was putting some finishing touches on the baby's room when his wife Donna suddenly broke the news to him that she was in labor. Aran says that he was excited and nervous all at once.

She had been in mild labor for a couple of hours, but had decided not to tell him right away because she knew that they would be in for a long haul and didn't want to get to the hospital too early.

The fact that they had had two false alarms earlier made this decision seem logical to her.

Says Aran, "I got my stopwatch and was ready to time the next contraction. The doctor had told us to leave for the hospital when the contractions were 4 to 5 minutes apart, since we had 30 miles to go. Donna's contractions were 7 minutes apart, so thinking that we had plenty of time, she took a quick shower. I got the car packed with the suitcases."

"Donna's contractions were getting more painful and closer together. It seemed like it took forever for her to get dressed, stopping during each contraction, which were now 2 minutes apart! We finally headed out the door at 9:05 a.m. I think she had 3 contractions just walking to the car.

As I drove down the little street, I needed to go slow, but at the same time wanted to hurry because I didn't want to deliver the baby myself. I asked Donna if we should stop to get the mail.

After hearing her response, I knew that we were in trouble! I stepped on it and as I flew past the next signal, her water broke.

She told me to pull over right away because she was going to have the baby. I said, 'We can't stop here, we need to get to the hospital. Just relax and breathe.'"

Donna screeched back at Aran, "You tell the baby that!"

Aran proceeded to get onto the freeway, but he couldn't go much faster than 50mph because there was a lot of traffic .Donna kept urging him to pull over, but he was sure that he could make it, even though they still had 26 miles to go.

Suddenly, there was a loud backfire.

Thinking that something might be going wrong with the car, Aran pulled over at the next exit.

Thinking quickly, Aran called his high school buddy, Jimmy Olsen on his cell phone. Could he send some help over? An ambulance?

As Aran drove into a nearby parking lot, he was really panicked. He jumped out of the car and shouted loudly, "My wife's having a baby!"

There was no one to hear him.

No one? Nope, someone had already heard him and help was on the way.

Aran made room in the car, pushed back the seat and checked Donna for dilation.

Aran continues his story, "I checked her and yelled, 'Oh my God, she's a 10!' I quickly got into the car and parked the car in the shade. The next few minutes flew by as we were timing Donna's contractions, awaiting the arrival of the ambulance or any other help that my friend Jimmy Olsen would send. Donna was still in the passenger's seat with the doors open. Suddenly, she yelled loudly that she could feel the baby's head and she was ready to push. And before we knew it, our first baby, little Carl came out, arriving at 11.05 am!"

"I wrapped him up in a blanket and a second later, a red and blue figure was standing next to me.

It was Superman.

'Hello, Superman', I said, 'meet Carl. Carl beat you to it'.

Superman simply smiled. Scooping up Donna and our son in his cloak, he flew away with them to the Metropolitan General Hospital.

I got into the car and followed them.

Later, much later, I remembered, Jimmy Olsen was Superman's pal.

Thank you, Superman and thank you, Jimmy!"


	10. Chapter 10

_Sunday, 7 March 2010 _

The World's Most Eligible Playboy - Interview with Bruce Wayne

By Lois Lane, Chief Reporter , The Daily Planet

File photo of Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne is the public face of Wayne Corp., but has always been an enigma. Those who know him well credit him with leading the organization's turbo-charged growth over the last two decades.

With a net worth of around $38-billion, Bruce Wayne is one of the richest man in the USA and the fifth richest in the world. He was selected as the Businessman of the Year in 2009 and is the proud owner of the world's most expensive private residence, Wayne Manor, which he inherited and refurbished for a mind-blowing $3-billion.

The manor is built in the old Southern style, sprawling across beautifully tended lawns. A tower block on the edge of this prime piece of real estate in Gotham is the newest addition to the billionaire playboy's home. The tower is 27-stories high (actually 55-stories in true height, but only 27 floors) and features 7 separate floors for his car collection alone. Wayne is known globally for being one of the toughest and most savvy businessmen of the modern era. Although his position was inherited, his wealth wasn't. Wayne worked hard and amassed one of the world's largest fortunes, building on his father's two medical patents and early research organization.

Bruce Wayne's father was a prominent doctor in Gotham. The billionaire's personal tragedy is well-known. His parents were killed in a mugging incident while the family returned from the theatre, leaving the young Bruce an orphan at an early age. (Read more about it on page 6)

While he was still only a child, he was already being groomed and was next in line to keep the family company thriving not only in Gotham, but on a global scale. Bruce excelled in school when he was young. Completing his education at Harvard was just another point in his by then brilliant academic career. When he was twenty four years old, Wayne undertook a regimen of austere physical fitness. This took him to far reaching places – India, Nepal, Japan, China – and lasted for slightly more than two years.

Returning to head his father's company, Wayne Corp, he initiated a few key moves for the company, including the backward integration from pharmaceuticals into Medical Research and further into petroleum and petrochemicals. Bruce Wayne was to shape a global empire that involved very diverse technologies, raising manufacturing capacities went from a few hundred thousand tons to over twenty million annually. Thirty percent of the shares of Wayne Corp are held by the Wayne Trusts set up in memory of Bruce Wayne's parents. The Trusts run several charitable organizations in Gotham and across the globe. (For a more complete story, read about it on .com ) 

Wayne is one of the world's best and brightest businessmen and biggest philanthropist. He's also the worlds most eligble bachelor.

"Where the hell is he?"

Hal Jordan glanced at his watch, then around at the lobby of the posh luxury hotel. He'd been ordered to pick up his agent at 7:30 a.m.—sharp—only to get here and discover the man was a no-show, damn it.

"I should have told him to find his own way to the damn meeting," he muttered.

And he would have, too, except something about Julian's tone had warned Hal that his chauffeur services weren't so much a request as they were a command performance. At least the digs were nice, Hal thought, doing a slow sweep of the hotel lobby. He stood in an atrium, one that rose up at least thirty stories high. Fancy, wrought iron railings rimmed the interior. Each room had its own balcony, one that overlooked the center of the hotel. A waterfall tinkled in the distance. Plush trees and carefully placed potted palms shielded guests from other visitors' views. It felt and smelled like a rain forest, the air thick with moisture and the scent of fresh earth.

"There you are."

Maybe all that carbon monoxide had affected his brain because that sure sounded like…

"You ready? Let's go. We're late. Took me forever to get to the lobby."

Hal's brain refused to reconcile what his eyes were seeing. Standing before him, looking as calm and cool as the lawyer Julian professed her to be, was Fanci Webb in a dark blue skirt suit, hair smoothly slicked back. Hal recognized her from the power ring visual his ring had projected.

"I'm Fanci, " said Fanci Webb, gleefully, noting his obvious shock, "and I'm here to…."

"I know who you are. I recognized your voice. I never forget a sexy voice when I hear it. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Hal interrupted her angrily, raising his voice to decibels that hurt Fanci's ears.

"Surprise," she said, coolly, the brown briefcase that she held brushing her knee-length skirt.

"Julian sent me to handle this meeting."

"Excuse me?"

She wore thick-rimmed glasses today, the kind that were supposed to make her look stylish and elegant. All they succeeded in doing was to make her look more like a bookworm.

"I'm supposed to accompany you to your meeting with Mr. Hannigan," she responded.

"But…I thought Julian said he was firing you."

She scooted closer to him. Hell, she even leaned in and peered up. "'Fraid not, Hal," she said, a smile spreading across her face, one that wasn't the least bit amused. "Not for your lack of trying, however."

Actually, he hadn't mentioned firing her to Julian at all. It was Ollie who'd suggested the idea after Hal had called to complain about Fanci's telephone call. Once Hal had calmed down, he'd realized Fanci might have a point, and in the end he'd decided to agree to the publicity not to race. He was still pissed off with her arrogance but he'd changed his mind about getting her canned.

"So you haven't been fired?"

"Nope," she said quickly. "In fact, I got a promotion."

Why did he have a feeling he wasn't going to like what was coming next?

"I'm your new agent. Well," she quickly amended, "I'm technically a junior agent. Julian was so impressed with the way I handled you, that he thought I should do it from here on out—you know, manage you as if you were my client."

"No way."

"Yes, Hal." She looked so damned smug about it, Hal felt his cheek begin to twitch. What was it about her that always managed to do that to him?

"Julian's my agent," he snapped. "I signed with him. You can't be my agent."

"Oh, he's still representing you. But after what happened with The Daily Planet and Lois Lane, he thinks you need a little extra…" she pursed her lips, tipped her head side to side, "…push to behave, and so I'm it."

Hal reached for his cell phone.

"Don't bother. He'll just ignore you."

"Then I'll leave a message."

"He'll ignore those, too."

"You're not my agent."

"Junior agent."

"Whatever."

"And I'm afraid you have no choice. It's in your contract with SMWW. Paragraph 18, section A, bullet 18.3.1. Agent can, if Agent so desires, appoint a Junior Agent to handle Client if the Agent deems it necessary." She lifted a brow. "Or did you not read that, either?"

"I read it. Of course, I read it. I read every page of my contract." In a way. He'd just fallen asleep after the first page. "But just because I read it doesn't mean I have to agree to it."

She released a laugh that was damn near a snort. "Yes, Hal, it does. You signed that contract, thereby agreeing to every word. But if you don't like it, fire Julian."

That robbed him of speech for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"Look," she said, "I don't want to work with you any more than you want to work with me. If you fire Julian, then you'd be doing me a favor. We wouldn't have to work together and I wouldn't be at fault so I could keep my job."

She didn't want to work with him?

"Then what was all that crap about never finding another agent?" Hal asked.

"I lied," she said. "In my briefcase I have a list of agencies who might be willing to work with you. I'll give it to you if you want."

"You're a piece of work," he said.

"I'm just trying to make it easy on us both."

"No," he said. "I'm not firing Julian. You're stuck with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said, although damned if he knew why.

"Fine. Let's go."

He didn't follow.

"Or not," she said. "I can do this alone. I have a feeling whatever Mr. Hannigan has to say won't be pleasant. But don't worry, I can take it on the chin for you. That's my job."

"You're not seriously going without me."

"Yes, Hal, I am."

And she did. Fanci hailed a cab, gave the cabby JHE's address, and headed off to James Hannigan Enterprises without breaking a sweat. Well, all right. Maybe her hands shook. And maybe her heart beat as fast as a hyperactive poodle's. And maybe she had to resist the urge to close her eyes and groan.

There was an aura of power about Hal Jordan that had unnerved her completely, or was it that raw sensuality that seemed to blaze from his golden eyes? He was everything a man should be and more. He was one man who lived up to the promise of his voice. The clothes he wore were well tailored, expensive and sophisticated – so there was money somewhere or had been. His features were chiseled in a ruggedly handsome way, the square jaw accentuating his masculinity. He made her achingly aware of her own femininity and inadequacies.

Fanci actually groaned aloud now. Had she really told Hal to fire Julian?

She had. But to be honest, she was tired of it all. Julian was such a tyrant. And Hal appeared to be no better. And now she was forced to do Julian's dirty work. Rumor had it Mr. Hannigan had asked his lawyers to join him at this meeting with Hal, probably because they, too, could see the handwriting on the wall. Hal needed to be brought under control, and with Fanci's boss being as slimy as he was, she wouldn't doubt that Julian had known about the meeting before giving her Hal as a client. More than likely Julian hadn't wanted to deal with the matter and so he'd sent her in to take the rap.

"You trying to get a job with James Hannigan Enterprises?" the cabdriver asked.

"Actually, no," she said, glancing out at the landscape.

"You a reporter or something?"

Who was this guy? The FBI? "Actually, no," she said, hoping that he'd get the message that she didn't want to talk. She should probably take another look at Hal's contract with JHE. She'd pretty much memorized its various clauses on the way down to Charlotte, but it never hurt to take a second look.

"Not much of a JHE fan, myself," the cabdriver said. George was his name, at least according to the Operator's Permit that hung on the dashboard.

The snaps of Fanci's brand-new briefcase flicked open too fast and caught her thumb. She gasped in pain, instantly sucking it into her mouth.

Ow, ow, ow.

"I think James Hannigan is a jerk," George continued. "And that new guy they hired, Hal Jordan, he's even worse."

"I know," Fanci murmured. Boy, did she ever know. She pulled out a legal-sized document, one that was at least twenty pages long.

"Don't know what Mr. Hannigan was thinking hiring that jerk. I heard he mouthed off to some of the drivers last season."

"Yeah?" she said, her eyes skimming the first page. Terms, indemnity and termination. Those were the clauses on the first page.

"Yeah," the man said. "Apparently he called—"

Fanci's seat belt slammed into her shoulder.

"What the hell?" her driver yelled, braking as if a herd of elephants blocked him. "What does that jerk think he's doing?"

Fanci looked up, just in time to see a foreign-looking car swerve in front of the cab to the shoulder of the road. The cabdriver did the same out of self-defense. Both vehicles ended up sliding onto the gravel easement.

"Was he trying to avoid hitting something?" Fanci asked, turning to peer behind them.

"No…"

Fanci heard the man gasp.

"I don't believe it," George said.

"I know," Fanci said, facing forward again. "The way people drive always amazes me, too. But this is nothing. You should see New York."

George didn't reply. Fanci wondered if he was having heart problems or something—shock could do that to a person. She glanced out the front window, and the reason for George's speechlessness became immediately apparent.

Hal Jordan walked toward the cab.

"Oh, crap," she muttered. "What the heck does he want?"

"You know him?" George asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," she said, watching as Hal crossed to her side of the car.

He opened the door. "I need to talk to you," Hal said.

"So you ran my cab off the side of the road?"

"I wanted to talk to you right away."

"And you couldn't call my cell phone?"

"I don't have it."

Oh. That's right.

"You could have waited until we arrived at JHE."

His shoulders slumped. It was strange, because Fanci could see the fight just drain right out of him.

"I'm sorry." He said the words quickly. It was as if he had to get them out fast before he lost the ability to say them. "I should have just waited until we arrived at JHE. I'll just meet you there…"

He turned away and Fanci found herself calling, "No wait," before she could think better of it. He looked so much like a remorseful schoolboy that she couldn't resist asking, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

He didn't answer right away. She waited. Out on the road a car whizzed by. She watched as the wind from its passing caused a lock of his hair to fall over one eye. He flicked it away impatiently.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have this horrible temper. I need to learn to control it better. It's not your fault Julian switched things up. I shouldn't have snapped like that."

Fanci glanced at the cabdriver. The guy's eyes were glued to his rearview mirror, as if he were watching daytime TV.

"Hang on," she said, slipping out of the car. They'd stopped near a wooded area, Fanci's heels sinking into gravel and the wet earth as she moved a safe distance away from the side of the road. Hal followed. When she turned back to him, she crossed her arms in front of her.

"I think you're right," she said. "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"We did," he said with a nod. "I'm not the easiest person to work with. I know that. It's just that Julian switching things up without even calling me really made me mad. I'm sorry I took it out on you."

Fanci released a breath that was pure relief. "Well, if it's any consolation, Julian's pretty good at stepping on toes."

"I can see that."

She looked away. To be honest, she had to shift her gaze to somewhere else because Hal with kindness in his eyes was a Hal that made her legs turn into spaghetti noodles.

"Apology accepted."

His gaze settled on the cab. "You sure you don't want to ride with me to JHE?" he asked.

"No sense in wasting a cab fare."

She didn't want to ride with him. That meant sharing a car. Being close to him. Having a conversation with him.

"That's okay," she said quickly.

"You sure?" he asked. "Seems kind of silly to take two cars when mine's right there."

She glanced at his car. It was bright red, low-slung and it looked more as if it belonged on the Autobahn than city streets. White racing stripes intersected its middle—like a giant, white equal sign. Probably an expensive import of some sort.

She jerked upright.

"Hey," she said. "You're not supposed to be driving foreign cars."

"Relax," he said. "It's a make of my sponsored manufacturer. I'm legal."

"Oh," she said, and for some reason, she had a hard time meeting his gaze.

"Come on," he said. "I'll give you a ride."

"No, no. That's okay."

"I insist," he said, his big hand cupping her back.

Fanci just about jerked away. She looked up at him in shock, but only for a moment because she couldn't look him in the eye…again.

Curse it all, she thought, she couldn't possibly find him attractive?

No way.

But she did.

It didn't matter that five minutes ago she'd been muttering expletives that included his name. It didn't matter that he'd tried to get her fired. A rush of purely irrational and completely unexpected lust caused her body to tingle in places it had no business tingling, heat that radiated out from the very spot where his palm rested against the small of her back.

Which just went to show how completely illogical the human brain could be where sexual attraction was concerned.

"Come on," he said. "We'll go tell the cabdriver his services aren't needed anymore."

She didn't want to tell the cabdriver anything. She wanted to get in the yellow car and take off. The sooner the better.

But she knew if she kept on protesting, it would seem odd. Just as she knew there was a part of her—a tiny part—that wanted to be alone with Hal. Even if it was for the fifteen-minute drive to JHE's headquarters.

"We won't be needing your services anymore," Hal said to the driver, taking his hand away from the small of Fanci's back so he could reach for his wallet. "Here, let me get you some money."

"Actually, that's really not necessary, Mr. Jordan," the cabbie said. "Really. We've only gone a few miles."

"Yeah, but you would have gone a whole lot farther if I haven't stopped you. Here," he repeated, handing George a twenty-dollar bill. "I insist."

"Thanks, Mr. Jordan."

Hal had just found himself a new fan, Fanci thought, using her briefcase as a shield in front of her. The cabdriver even went so far as to call out, "Good luck at the race this weekend."

Unbelievable.

He placed his hand in the small of her back again. Fanci just about closed her eyes.

You have the hots for him.

"Come on," he said, and when Fanci looked up at his smiling face, Fanci knew it was true.

She very definitely had the hots for him. "You're going to love my car."

He opened the passenger-side door, the smell of new car filling the air, and then he touched her again, helping her into the car with a guiding hand.

Oh, lord.

She noticed then that he had creases that branched out from the edges of his eyes. And that he had rock-star hair—the strands swept back from his head and left long and wavy around the nape of his neck. And that he had a way of looking at her that made her feel exposed and vulnerable and wishing she was naked with him.

And that, miraculously, she'd started to like him.


	11. Chapter 11

Cassie and Connor were at Themyscira House.

Cassie had stopped by to pick up some of her school work and Connor had simply followed her in. As they made their way to Cassie's bedroom, a dark shape separated itself from the shadows and blocked their path. Connor reacted instantly letting heat rays shoot out from his eyes on to the shape.

"Owww," Connor yelled in pain, a second later. The heat rays had been deflected back at him and had hit his arm, leaving burn marks as they skimmed the surface of his skin.

Cassie pushed him back, behind her.

Her keen nose had already picked up the faint smell of ichor, the signature of the gods of Mount Olympus. This was no ordinary mortal here, not even a meta, this strange shape was surely a god.

"Who are you?" Cassie asked the dark shape in front of her.

"Ah, child, do you not recognize me?" The words were soft, the voice was dulcet – Cassie frowned. She had heard that voice before. It was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Cassandra, daughter of Zeus, open your eyes and see for yourself. It is I, Aphrodite, and unless you acknowledge me now, prepare to lose the young hero you hide behind you," the voice was more firm now as the shape dropped the hood that covered its head, and Aphrodite's golden beauty was revealed.

No god then, but a goddess.

Stunned, Cassie knelt at once, her head bowed, saying, "Goddess, you honor me with your presence, how am I so blessed by a vision of you?"

Connor refused to kneel – so this was the famous Aphrodite. He could see why men would do anything she said. Aphrodite was a paragon of beauty and she oozed sex appeal. But Connor knelt to no one.

Aphrodite looked at the young couple in front of her and smiled. Young love was her favorite kind. Not that she was so old that she could not remember how it was to feel the heady glow of loving. Timeless she may be, but good loving was timeless too. And with a hero such as Connor, she might choose to experiment herself, explore his firm, young body, teach him thing or two….

Oh yes, she well knew that the hero did not acknowledge her, but Aphrodite held absolute sway over the kingdom of love. And Cassie was certainly her subject.

She shifted her gaze now to Cassie, still kneeling in homage before her and spoke, "Cassandra, I have need of you. Your sister refuses to acknowledge me and in doing so, incurs my wrath. You will need to aid her in remembering that I exist. Too long have I been content for her to be Athena's champion. All beings must know love and suffer the pain of it or bask in the glory. You must choose now. Do you aid your sister to honor me or do you desist and in doing so, condemn her to a life with Hades? For Athena will not cross me in this and I have Zeus' blessing."

Cassie looked up, into the face of Divine Beauty and felt overwhelming love. Suffused with the glow, she said to Aphrodite, "Goddess, forgive me. Of which sister do you speak?"

At this, the goddess smiled. "Rise, young Cassie," she said, "that we may speak more freely. Your sister, Diana, daughter of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, is of whom I speak."

Cassie wondered how she had gotten into this mess. But careful to keep her face neutral, she responded, "But Diana has attempted to find love – there has been…" Her voice trailed off, she didn't want to share Diana's secrets with Connor. Not yet.

Aphrodite smiled, "That boy with the golden tresses who thinks he is Adonis but fails miserably to match up? Or that dark, menacing man who thinks he's the son of Hades? Neither are right for her. And neither would have worked. For Diana to know true love, she must first submerge herself, lose her very being and all that she holds dear."

Cassie was quick to defend Diana, "But surely, Diana is all-loving and compassionate. There is no one who can love better than Diana."

"But only when you can accept love as generously as you give it, can you truly know love. To love is not the same as to allow oneself to be loved. To be loved, you need to trust. To trust means you need to let down your defenses and let in loved ones. Being afraid of being hurt is being afraid of being loved," said the Goddess now. Looking at Connor, she continued speaking to Cassie, "Look at the young man there, and think of the love you share. He is stronger, perhaps, than you, but allows himself to be loved by you. Do you not do the same with him?"

Cassie thought about Aphrodite's words. Thought about the hurt she had felt when Connor had died. Thought about the uncertainty of allowing herself to let him close to her on his return. Of learning to trust him again. Of the incandescent glow she felt whenever they were together. Perhaps, Aphrodite was right. But she was a goddess, wasn't she? It was easy to be right.

"How do you want me to help?" she asked Aphrodite. "I don't know the first thing about playing match-maker."

Aphrodite responded, "You've already begun to do that. I dispatched Hermes and my son Eros, a few days ago to send the thoughts to you. It was my divine will that the hero talks to Diana and you talk to the demi-god they call Superman. And that you have done."

Connor was tired of being ignored.

Goddess or no, he was not going to stand by and allow Kal's life to be taken over by a bunch of well-meaning but meddlesome women. He completely forgot about his own role in meddling in Kal and Diana's relationship.

He spoke up, "Uhh…Lady Aphrodite…when I spoke to Diana…" his voice trailed off.

The look on their faces stopped him cold. Both were forbidding, but it was Cassie's face that disturbed him the most. If looks could kill, if Cassie had been made of kryptonite, he would be dead, for a second time.

Connor learned something new. When two women are talking, don't interrupt.

"I know what Diana said to you and I know what this Superman said. Each has responded as they will. Superman trusts Diana. Completely. Diana trusts Superman, as a colleague, as a friend, as the dearest man she knows. But has yet to learn to trust him as a woman. She does not let herself relax," smiled Aphrodite at Connor.

Cassie just continued glaring at him.

Connor was uncomfortable. What had he done wrong? Why was Cassie glaring at him?

"Now, I charge you to be my champions. To help Diana understand that she cannot continue to deny me anymore. She must learn to love and allow herself to love. If Diana cannot do this, then she does not use the gifts that I have given her to their fullest. You must help her find the path. I leave Erato behind to help you," and Aphrodite waved her hand.

A beautiful, shapely young woman materialized next to her. "She will be available whenever you need her, and be my sentinel on your course."

Both Aphrodite and Erato disappeared.

Cassie turned to Connor, "You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? First, you show her no respect, then you want to tell her everything about Diana. And you haven't even told me what she said."

"But, Cassie," responded Connor, "this is the first we've met since then. And you've not told me what Kal said, too."

Cassie's temper cooled down as quickly as it had simmered. Connor was right. It was just the aftermath of a celestial visit. Gods and goddesses always left this trail of discord behind when they left. "Well, Kal was very noble. He told me that the choice was with Diana. That's not saying much. What did Diana say?"

"Well," said Connor, "Diana told me that Kal was her best friend. And that really, more than that, was none of my business. At least that's what I think she said."

Cassie sighed. This was going to be difficult. It was a good thing Erato was there to help them.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thursday, 11__ March __ 2010 _

Interview with Next Generation Artists – featuring Jamie Galeria

By Lois Lane, Chief Reporter , The Daily Planet

Photographs by Jimmy Olsen, Photographer, The Daily Planet

**Jamie Galeria** (JG) (born 18 November 1979) is widely known online for work in comic book characters and other graphic images. Best described as a comics fan-artist, Jamie applies literary understanding to the characterization and as well as including challenging subject matter and adult themes. The Daily Planet interviews this reclusive artist who happily shares her thoughts on the current trends in comic books.

TDP: When did you first realize that you were an artist?

JG: Among fans, all over the world, the fandom is largely homogenous and always on the look-out for new and interesting art-work. In fact, unlike comic book artists, fan-artists are usually unvalued unless they are lucky enough to find a fan-group that likes their work. So accepting that one is an artist, and embracing it – as I did, when I was younger – is really something of an emotionally fraught experience. That said, from when I was a very small child, I can't remember a time when I wasn't painting or drawing or trying to visualize an art scene. My earliest memories are related to art - for example, I remember the exact moment, at four, that I understood perspective in drawing or the first time I consciously held a pencil in a different way to achieve an effect with line.

TDP: Could you tell us some more about your work?

JG: My early efforts were simple lines, more the outcome of ideas and thoughts rather than highly structured or with any particular theme. They were inspired by a desire to confront the increasing comic book artists and writers who depicted heroes with stereotypical depictions designed to entertain, rather than provoke thought and admiration. It was a kind of glossy 'anti-art' – colorful and imposing, and yet traditional.

My current work is very different. I like to think it embraces the primal nature of mankind and the impulses of art. It adheres to the figurative but with a freer, more expressionistic exploration of line and color. I'm happy expressing myself with any media – watercolors, pencil and ink or even crayons and paints. I've received very positive feedback from fans.

My generation has an advantage: it's the first to have globally networked electronic media at its disposal. Still, using these is about more than building a web site and creating a network. Email encourages frequency and depth in my communication with fans and collectors.

TDP: You use Superman as the subject for a lot of your work. Why is that?

JG: It's kind of inevitable, I guess. Superman is a fascinating subject. He has a lot of grace and strength, courage, integrity and is the embodiment of the ideal male. If such a thing as the ideal male is possible, then Superman is that male.

TDP: What artists have influenced you, and how?

JG: All of the graphic artists for the comic books are very inspiring, if a little insipid at times I became very disillusioned with them all - except Alan Moore - when it became apparent that much of their focus was actually on selling comic books rather than on art. Since then, I've been inspired by other artists who don't draw for comic book companies. The Swedish artist – Mike S Mall does some wonderful work. The accomplishments of so many comic illustrators these days have reflected a triumph of consumerism over art. Their success is as reliant on message, positioning and timing as any corporate marketing strategy: its comic art as commodity, artist as brand.

TDP: What other interests do you have (besides drawing and art)?

JG: In relation to my work, I am beginning to experiment with a lot of other media, including making videos and short films, while continuing to draw as much as possible. I love traveling and renewing myself through nature treks and retreats. In relation to my personal life, its much simpler: I am learning to sky-glide, and I am in the middle of my first real love affair: its extraordinary how much time passes just hanging out, talking to my man and having sex! 

Diana Prince, undercover agent for DOMA, was walking out of Jamie Galeria's exhibition in Gotham, when the her communication earpiece was activated.

"Agent Prince, this is Agent Tresser. Report on any meta-human activity at the Galeria exhibition, please."

Diana sighed. Tom was being so officious. So difficult. And just when she was actually enjoying her role. "Agent Tresser, nothing to report. I've taken a close look at all the artwork. There's nothing to suggest any covert message of any kind."

She spotted Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen among the reporters gathered outside the building and walked towards them. Why were they covering an Art exhibition so far from home? She was curious. Besides, Diana wanted a word with Clark. Connor's question was on her mind, and she wanted to discuss it with him.

She saw the exact moment he turned into Superman. Alert, keen, and ready to move. Still dressed as Clark Kent, though. She already knew he was leaving.

Diana turned around in one quick movement. With a quick flick of the wrist, her lasso magically screened her movements and turned into Wonder Woman, activating the JLA com-link at the same time. "Oracle here." The link crackled alive. "What's up, Wonder Woman?"

"Tell me what's happening, Oracle,

"There's a hostage situation over in Little Italy," said Oracle. "It's bad. Three people are already dead."

Wonder Woman was already speeding to the venue. So was Superman.

The worst kind of war was one with no front lines or battle plans. It was fueled on anger and fear and the blind need to destroy. The once-tidy restaurant with its pretty, striped awning and sidewalk tables was destroyed. Shards from the broken window sparkled like scattered gems over the sidewalk. The flap of the awning in the raw spring wind was smothered by the static-filled drone of police radios. Reporters held back by barricades

swarmed like hungry wolves.

There was another volley of gunshots from inside. And a long, terrified scream.

"Hera."

Sweat popped out on Jimmy's brow as he held the camera steady. "He's killing them."

"Get a shot of that cop there," Lois said. "The one with the bullhorn."

"You're the boss." Jimmy focused in on a police man in a neon orange trench coat with a hangdog face and graying hair. "I wonder where Clark vanished."

Amid the screams and shouts, the weeping, the bitter threats and curses from inside the restaurant, the steely-eyed cop continued to talk in a soothing monotone.

"Pretty cool customer," Jimmy observed, then at a signal from Lois shifted, crouched to get a shot of the SWAT team taking position.

"Cool enough," Lois agreed. "If he keeps at it, they might not need the sharpshooters. Keep rolling. I'm going to see if I can work my way over and find out who he is."

The Batman wasn't thinking about the future. He was too involved in the present. Using wile, guile and arrogance, he'd managed to gain a position beside the hostage negotiator, Commissioner Gordon. Gordon still held the bullhorn but had taken a short break in his appeal to his quarry to release the hostages.

"Commissioner, the word I've gotten here is that Chico--that's his name, isn't it, Chico Valentine?"

"It's the one he answers to," Gordon said mildly.

"He has a history of depression. He hates meta-humans ever since his parents and sister died in that huge battle that's still called Infinite Crisis, leaving him alone. His VA records… "

"You would not have access to VA his medical records, Batman?"

"Not directly." But he had contacts, and he'd used them.

"My take on this is that Valentine served in the military and has been troubled since his discharge in March of last year. Last week he lost his wife and his job."

"You're well informed."

"And I've warned Superman and Wonder Woman not to enter the situation or be seen just now. We don't want to trigger off any more killing."

"That's right."

"Chico went into this restaurant at just past ten this morning--that's about three hours ago--armed with a forty-four Magnum, a Bushmaster, a gas mask and a carbine. He shot and killed two waiters and a bystander, then took five hostages, including two women and a twelve-year-old girl, the owner's daughter."

"Ten," Gordon said wearily. "The kid's ten. Batman, you do good work, and usually I'm happy with it. But my job right now is to get those people out of there alive."

Batman glanced over, noting the position of the sharpshooters. They wouldn't wait much longer. "What are his demands? Can you tell me that?"

It hardly mattered, Gordon decided. There had been only one, and he hadn't been able to meet it. "He wants his wife, Batman. She left Gotham four days ago. We're trying to locate her, but we haven't had any luck."

"I can ask the JLA to help and The Daily Planet to get it on the air. If the JLA finds her or she catches a bulletin, she may make contact. Let me talk to him. I might be able to get him to bargain if I tell him we'll find her."

Batman turned aside and spoke to Oracle, "Oracle try and find his wife, Angela Valentine."

Then, he activated the JLA com-link and spoke quickly to all the JLA members giving them the same message.

Superman and Wonder Woman – hovered above the scene, out of sight, watching for a signal from the Batman. Batman activated the second channel of the com-link and spoke briefly to Superman and Wonder Woman, telling them of his plan and what they needed to do and when. Then he turned and held out his hand to Gordon.

Gordon believed in instinct, and he also knew, without a doubt, that he couldn't hold the situation from flash point much longer. After a moment, he handed Batman the bullhorn. "Don't promise what you can't deliver."

"Mr. Chico Valentine. This is Batman. I'm a friend…."

"I know who you are." The voice came out, a high-pitched shriek through the broken glass. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"You were in the Crisis war, right? I was too."

"Shit. You figure that makes us buddies?"

"I figure anybody who lived through that has already been to hell." The awning flapped, reminding Bruce of the heroes who had fallen in that cataclysmic war. "I thought maybe we could make a deal."

"There isn't any deal. My wife gets here, I let them go. She doesn't, we're all going to hell. For real."

"The cops have been trying to reach her, but I thought we could put a new spin on it. I've got a lot of contacts. I can get the JLA on it, get your story national, put your wife's picture on television screens from coast to coast. Even if she isn't watching, someone who knows her is bound to be. We'll put a number on, a special number where she can call in. You can talk to her, Chico."

That was good, Gordon decided, even as he braced to rip the bullhorn from Batman's hands if the need arose. Using his first name, offering him not only hope but a few minutes of fame. His superiors might not approve, but Gordon thought it could work.

"Then do it!" Valentine shouted out. "Just f***ing do it."

"I'll be glad to, but I can't unless you give something back. Just let the little girl come out, Chico, and I'll plug your story across the country within ten minutes. I can even fix it so you can get a message to your wife. In your own words."

"I'm not letting anybody out, except in a body bag."

"She's just a kid, Chico. Your wife probably likes kids." Hell, Batman hoped so. "If you let her go, she'll hear about it, and she'll want to talk to you."

"It's a trick."

"I've got a camera right here." He glanced toward Jimmy and Lois. "Is there a TV in the bar in there?" he called out.

"What if there is?"

"You can watch everything I do. Everything I say. I'll have them put me on live."

"Then do it. Do it in five minutes, f***ing five minutes, or you're going to have another body in here."

"Fix it up," Batman said. "Patch me in. Set up for live now." Then he turned back to Gordon.

"You'd make a pretty good cop--for a vigilante."

"Thanks." He handed Gordon the bullhorn. "Tell him to send her out while I'm on the air, or I go to black."

Batman simultaneously spoke into the com-link connecting Superman, Wonder Woman and himself. "Wonder Woman, you need to move in quickly and snatch up Chico. Superman, you need to shield the hostages from possible bullets while you grab them up."

In precisely five minutes, Batman faced the camera. Being in the limelight was not something he sought. He much preferred to work in the shadows. Too late to change tack now.

Whatever his inner turmoil, his delivery was calm and well paced, his eyes cool. Behind him was the shattered exterior of the restaurant.

"This morning in Gotham's Little Italy, this family-run restaurant erupted with violence. Three people are known dead in the standoff between police and Chico Valentine, a former mechanic who chose this spot to take his stand. Valentine's only demand is contact with his estranged wife, Angela."

Though he sensed activity behind him, Batman's eyes stayed fixed on the camera's light.

"Valentine, well armed, is holding five hostages. In his appeal to…"

There was a scream from behind him. Batman stopped speaking immediately and sprinted towards the sound. Jimmy continued to tape.

It happened quickly, as if all the waiting hours had been focused on this one moment. The child, trembling and weeping, stepped outside. Even as the shadow of the awning fell over her face, a wild-eyed man sprinted out, screaming as he hurtled toward escape. The rash of gunfire from the restaurant propelled the man forward, off his feet. It was Superman, Batman saw, who scooped the child aside even as Valentine stumbled to the door.

Wonder Woman snatched up Chico Valentine, disarming him effectively and bringing him to Gordon's side.

The bullets fell harmlessly to the ground. It was split second timing. And though Batman had seen these two in action before, he was still breathless at their power and grace. And struck by the fact that they moved like one person. Almost as if they knew what the other was thinking.

"Oh man." Jimmy kept repeating the words over and over under his breath as he held the camera steady. "Man, oh man, oh man."

Lois only shook her head. The burning in her left arm made her glance down curiously. Brows knit, she touched the hole in her sleeve. Her fingers came away sticky with blood.

"Well, hell," she murmured. "I got this coat in Paris."

"Shit, Lane." Jimmy's eyes bulged. "Shit. You're hit."

"Yeah." She didn't feel any pain yet, only dull annoyance. "You just can't patch leather, either."

On Thursday, as soon as the morning show was taped, Lois stood in the center of her office, her eyes glued to the TV screen. It seemed unbelievable that she could be so calm even as she supplied the details over the special report.

She saw the scene vividly once again. The shattered glass, the bloodied body. The camera bobbled and swung as guns went off. Her heart jerked as she heard the pop and ping of bullets. She replayed the first few relays when Batman had addressed the viewers. His voice remained calm, cool, with an underpinning of fury she doubted any of his viewers were aware of. She stood, a fist pressed to her heart as the camera zoomed in on the child, weeping in the arms of a rumpled man with graying hair, as Superman stood by their side.

"Lois." Perry hesitated in the doorway, then crossed the room to stand beside her.

"It's horrible," she murmured. "Unbelievable. If that man hadn't panicked and run out that way, if he hadn't done that, it might have turned out differently. That little girl, she could have been caught in the cross fire."

"Are you okay? Should you be back on the job so soon?"

"Lois" Perry said again, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to take a break for a few days?" He walked over and switched off the set. " I would understand. I could even give you a desk job."

For the first time, she gave him a smile. "Things don't work that way. I wouldn't want them to. We'd better get back to work." She gave his hand a quick squeeze before rounding her desk. "Thanks for caring, Chief."

"Hey. That's what I'm here for. And don't call me Chief."


	13. Chapter 13

Hal had never seen a woman blush like Fanci…and he loved it.

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

"You," he said again, trying hard to keep from smiling. She looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"You're out of your mind," she said.

"Come on, Fanci," he said softly, lifting a hand to her face and touching her cheek. She had really soft skin. "How much is it worth for me to behave?"

"You're insane," she said, stepping back so fast she almost fell off the edge of the sidewalk. "You can joke around all you want, but in about thirty seconds, Mr. Hannigan is going to walk out of that conference room—if he hasn't already—and something tells me that if that happens, then you can expect a summons from his attorneys shortly thereafter."

"I'm not kidding," Hal said, although he really was, but he was also curious about what she'd say next.

"Of course, you are. That's what you do." She rolled her eyes. "You say whatever outrageous thing that comes to mind. It doesn't matter if you actually believe it or not, just as long as you shock the people you're talking to. I've watched your media clips, the ones you sent Julian when you asked him to rep you. If an interview isn't going your way, or if a reporter has pissed you off, then you always say something outrageous. It catches them off guard, maybe stirs the media pot. I was shocked at how many times something you've said made front-page news. I almost think that's why you do it. One way to get your sponsors some attention."

How the hell did she know that?

"You did that the first time you drove for JHE, too. You went into the driver's meeting and insulted everyone in the room. That stirred up a hornet's nest. I couldn't believe the number of bloggers who posted something about it. Your friends in the media were pretty vocal about it, too. Except for one reporter – Clark Kent – from The Daily Planet, who did that article about you some time ago."

"Yeah, so?"

"But it's not just a way of getting attention. It's a defense mechanism, too. Whenever you don't like what someone's done to you, or said to you, you lash out." Suddenly her face softened. She even slid off her black frames, her green eyes an incredible shade when they weren't shielded by glass. "You're going to ruin your career."

"You think so?"

She nodded again. "Look, Hal. Back at the office I saw something you should know about. A legal brief, one written by SMWW's attorneys. Apparently Julian asked them to look into the possibility of filing a civil suit against you should you breach your contract with JHE."

"What?" he asked, shock making him forget for a moment that she really did look adorable.

"It's actually a clever idea," she said. "Leave it to my boss to think it through. The legal department thought it a good idea, too. They told him that based on the contract you signed with SMWW, specifically the indemnity clause you agreed to, they felt it might be possible to bring suit against you for the unearned money you would have brought SMWW if you hadn't breached the contract. Granted, SMWW would have to file a lawsuit and then actually win the case, but if they were successful, you'd end up owing our firm a potential million dollars or so, and you'd probably set a precedence for other athletes who blow it and indirectly screw their agents. I'm surprised it hasn't happened before."

"You're kidding," he asked again, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck, and not because it was warm outside.

"Unfortunately, I'm not. Anyone can file a civil suit, I just don't think a sports agent has ever sued a client before. It's unheard of, but not impossible."

"Why that no good, money-hungry, piece of…"

"Wait, Hal," she said, clutching his hand. "Don't let it get that far. Listen to what I'm saying. Toe the line. You won't regret it if you do."

She held his gaze with an intensity that made it impossible to look way. Beneath the shade of the tree they stood underneath, she looked worried. And concerned. She still held his hand, too, her fingers clutching his own now. Hell, it almost appeared as if she actually cared.

Yeah. She cares…she wants the money you'll earn her if she keeps you in line—just like her boss.

"Why do you work for such a jackass?" he asked.

She leaned away, dropped her hand and he was sorry for that, he admitted. He liked her touch.

"Because it's my job," she said, her left hand fidgeting with the glasses she held. "Working for Julian pays the rent. I'll find another job with a different sports agency once I gain more experience." She frowned. "I probably shouldn't be admitting that to you, either."

But he was glad she did. Not many people were that honest with him. In fact, he could hardly think of a single person.

Sad, Jordan. Really sad.

"All right," he said, turning away.

"Wait," she said, rushing to get in step with him, heels clattering on the concrete. "Are you saying you'll behave?"

He stopped, looking down at her. She hadn't replaced her glasses and out from beneath the shade of the oak tree, he noticed that her eyes were a true green—not muddied by brown or blue—but an intensely flawless emerald color that was striking.

"Oh, I'll behave," he found himself saying. "Some of the time."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," he said, his mood suddenly improving. "You'll see."

You'll see. The words worried Fanci.

But what worried Fanci more was the message that she had received. If Hal was going to fight her at every opportunity, she was going to have to resort to other tactics. Maybe it was time to call for additional help. She mentally worded the message that she would send, thinking of the reactions the message would generate within the receiver. And she still had to resolve the immediate issue of Hal's tangled deal in the next few hours.

Fanci's fears about Hal's behaviour were put to rest once they continued with the meeting. Hal did a credible job of apologizing to his owner, James Hannigan, who introduced Hal's new Executive Assistant, Indira Dhody, a third generation Indian. The almond-eyed brunette's addition to their meeting was a surprise.

"It'll be Ms. Dhody's duty to assist you at the racetrack," Mr. Hannigan said. "She'll be your liaison with members of the press." He glanced at Hal, narrowed his eyes and said, "You know the drill."

Hal apparently did because he nodded. But Fanci had to wonder, were all Executive Assistants this attractive? Indira Dhody looked to be in her late twenties and had to be spending four hours in the gym each day. She had long black hair that was tied back and up into a French knot, clear skin and sparkling, black, don't-mess-with-me eyes. Those eyes had been trained on Hal from the moment the two met.

"Nice to meet you," Hal said, reaching across the table and shaking her hand.

That's the ticket, Hal, Fanci thought, nodding her approval. Then her eyes narrowed as she caught a glimpse of the bracelet Indira Dhody was wearing. Unusual design, she thought, much like the one she had in her closet back home. The rare metal had only just been discovered and was favored for its tensile strength.

Fanci felt a burst of adrenalin surge through her body, but used all her training not to let her emotions show. She forced herself to focus on the conversation, remaining alert to any changes that may spring up.

"I suppose we'll see if it'll be a pleasure to work with you," Ms. Dhody volleyed back and Fanci was tempted to let the woman borrow her glasses. That frown she gave Hal would have been much more effective had she been peering over a pair of spectacles.

"Well, I suppose so," Hal echoed. He gave the woman a smile that Fanci felt certain was meant to charm the lady, but it didn't.

This, Fanci decided, might turn out to be interesting.

"I've never had an Executive Assistant that looked…" It was obvious Hal searched for words that would flatter the woman. Equally obvious was that he couldn't seem to locate any. Fanci almost laughed.

"Smart," Ms. Dhody finished with a tight smile.

"I was going to say sexifficient," Hal said with another grin, intending to say sexy and settling for efficient, but sounding much worse. Fanci groaned inwardly.

Two seconds later, the meeting drew to a close. Hal was given his schedule for the next week and Fanci noticed he was due to race that weekend.

"Well," Hal said after they'd left the room, casually linking his fingers through Fanci's fingers. "That went well, don't you think?"

"Um, yeah," Fanci muttered, pulling free of his hand. "After you settled down." He had really warm skin. It made her fingers tingle.

"Can you believe the uptight woman they gave me as Executive Assistant? Why do I need one?" Hal asked with a glance back at the conference room.

"Something tells me that 'uptight woman' will be good for you."

"Yeah, but she sure doesn't look like any Executive Assistant I've ever seen before." He shivered theatrically.

Yeah, well, here was further proof that Fanci was on the right track. Distracted by another thought, she wondered if Hal had a reputation for trying to seduce the women he worked with. That would explain his "sexy voice" remark to her earlier and his "I want you" comment. Obviously, it was impossible for the man to look at a woman—any woman—and not think of sex.

"Look, Hal," she said. "I'd really like to go over some things before the race this weekend. And we should probably finish reviewing your entire contract, since it appears as if you didn't read it. Also, I'd like to go over how you want our relationship to work."

They'd crossed the courtyard and reached Hal's fancy car, the red paint nearly blinding her it was so bright outside. "I'll be moving down here temporarily," she added. "And so I'd like to know what you expect of me. In turn, I'd like to give you a list of what I expect of you."

"I told you what I expect of you," he said, his car chirping as he pressed the unlock button.

"And what was that?"

"You in my bed."

"Very funny," she said. It was really strange because for a second or two she'd actually felt a little bit hurt that he was back to teasing her again.

"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm serious."

"And that's first on my list of things I expect from you. I'm not going to tolerate being the butt of your jokes anymore, so stop playing with me."

He crossed around the front of his car. "Honey," he drawled, "when I'm playing with you, you'll know it."

How did he do it? How did he make her cheeks erupt like barbecue coals? She might vow to stop lusting after him, but lord help her, it was damn hard when she came face-to-face with his potent male charms. She'd been warned about him, but you had to experience the sexual charisma to know exactly what was being spoken about.

"Quit," she said, turning back to his car. Hal was the last person she should allow under her skin. He was the type of man who'd take what he wanted and then leave. And she'd had enough of that in her life already, thank you very much. "I'd like to get back to the hotel, if you don't mind. I have a couple of apartments I'm supposed to look at this afternoon."

"Fanci," he said, somehow inserting himself between her and the vehicle. "Look at me."

She told herself not to. She really did. Nothing good could come from looking up at him. Already her cheeks were radiating like the roof of the car. Only that heat had started to spread to other areas, too. It was a crying shame—not to mention vastly unfair—that she was so attracted to the man.

"Honestly, Fanci," he said softly. "You're selling yourself short if you think I'm not interested in you."

Her gaze shot to his. When their eyes met, Fanci felt as if she'd jumped off a horse at full gallop.

"Besides," he murmured, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. "You don't need to find an apartment."

"No?" she asked, heart pounding. "Why not?"

"Because," he said with a smile that should grace the cover of a magazine, "you're moving in with me."


	14. Chapter 14

Wonder Woman was at Gotham's HER Residence. Since she was here, she might as well go across and meet the residents, she had thought. Superman was with her, having insisted that he wanted to meet them too.

Batman had gone back to his cave – he wanted to close the loop on Chico Valentine, whom he was sure was a link to a drug smugglers ring.

Just now, Wonder Woman was standing in the small toy shop attached to the HER Residence and was showing Superman the toys, some of which the women had made for the resident children. As she leaned against the counter, she smiled into his face. His eyes were color of the river at dusk. His lips, as they formed the barest hint of a smile, were impossibly attractive, alluring. Involuntarily, she remembered what it felt like to feel those lips against her own – to watch his face as mouth met mouth, and see herself reflected in his eyes.

Stunned at her thoughts, she stepped back and her voice grew cooler. "Should we leave?" she asked.

Intrigued by the sudden change in tone, Superman looked at her more closely. Hadn't he seen something in those fabulous eyes of hers. Or was it wishful thinking? It had gone quickly enough, heat smothered in frost. For the life of him, he could find no reason for either.

"Diana." He laid a hand on hers as she began to turn away from him. Slowly, she lifted her eyes but not before she had noticed that his hands were beautiful, wide-palmed, long-fingered.

"Yes."

"Why do I keep getting the feeling you'd like to skewer me with a sword."

"You're mistaken," she said evenly. "I don't think I'd like that."

"You don't sound convinced." He felt her hand flex under his, soft and strong. The image of steel lined velvet seemed particularly apt. "I'm having trouble figuring out exactly how to behave around you."

The door jangled open behind them and he released her hand. Three children, fresh from school, came in giggling. A young boy with blonde hair and face bursting with freckles stood on his toes in front of the counter.

"I have three dollars," he announced.

Wonder Woman fought back a grin. "You're very rich today, sir."

He flashed her a smile that revealed his latest missing tooth. "I've been saving up. I want that remote controlled race car."

Wonder Woman only lifted a brow, as she continued, "Does your mother know you're here spending your life's savings?"

The boy remained silent.

Wonder Woman was not gifted with patience for nothing. She merely let the silence grow.

The boy shifted from one foot to another. "She didn't say I couldn't."

"And she didn't say you could," Wonder Woman surmised. She leaned over to tug at his spit curl, so similar to the Superman next to her. "Go and ask her, then you come back. The car will still be here."

"But, lady…."

"You wouldn't want your mother to be mad at me, would you?"

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment, and Superman could tell it was a tough choice. Rao knew that he himself did not want Ma Kent mad at him at any time.

"I guess not," came the answer.

"Then go ask her, and I'll ask the store lady to hold one for you."

Hope blossomed in the boy's face, "Promise?"

Wonder Woman crossed her hands over her chest, in the Amazonian manner. "Solemnly." And hunkering down, she gave the boy the most heart-stopping smile Superman had ever seen. It was a smile filled with promise. Filled with hope. Filled with love.

And Superman was annoyed with himself for wishing he were a ten-year old blonde-haired boy with a missing tooth.

"Moving in with you?" she cried.

Hal watched the shock on Fanci's face.

It was too early to tell her so many things. About the trouble that she was in. That she was attracting greater danger by simply being here. That the JLA had received a message to keep her under close protection. Batman hadn't had enough time to tell Hal everything earlier. He had just tersely told Hal, "Stay close to Fanci Webb, your agent. Don't let her out of your sight." Which accounted for that stupid taxi chase, Hal thought ruefully. He definitely wanted to protect Fanci from whatever she was running from.

That stopped him short. He wanted to protect her? Surprised, he explored the thought. As Green Lantern or as Hal Jordan?

Fanci was watching him. He was joking, he had to be, she thought desperately. Of course, he was pulling her leg because right after he said the words he stepped back from her and opened the door of the car.

"In you go," he said with his perky charm. She didn't want to "go" anywhere. She wanted to go home, turn on the air-conditioning, full blast, lie down in front of it and cool down.

When he opened his own door and slid inside, she expected him to continue the conversation, but instead he said, "Hey, you mind if we run an errand on our way back to town?"

Mind? Of course she minded. All she wanted to do was get away from him fast. To forget about how nice it'd been to have his hand stroke her face. How hot it had felt.

"No," she choked out. "Of course not."

"Great," he said, leaning toward her and resting a palm on her thigh.

She flicked it off.

"Oops, sorry," he said. "There I go invading your space again, huh?"

She could tell that he wasn't sorry at all. She looked out the window, struggled with a way to bring up the subject of her supposed "moving in" with him, but in the end she chickened out. Besides, he'd obviously been pulling her leg. He was inhaling something other than exhaust if he thought they'd ever live together.

But Fanci thought she had better make it clear. "I'm not moving in with you."

He flashed her a grin that echoed the twinkle in his eyes. "Not immediately," he said. "But you will. And you'll be safe, I do have more than one bedroom."

"What?!," she cried, feeling very unsafe just now.

Why couldn't he have been joking?

"Where are we going, by the way?" she forced herself to say.

"I want to go look at some homes."

"To buy or build?" she immediately asked.

"To rent," he murmured.

She didn't like the idea of going sightseeing with him at all. What if he pulled off the road? Tried to kiss her? Maybe attempted to prove to her that he really did want her?

You've been inhaling more than exhaust fumes, a little voice said. Relax, Fanci. It's not as if he's going to force himself on you.

She knew that. She just didn't like the thought of being alone with him any longer than necessary. All the training that she had received had not prepared her for this. She couldn't let her attraction to this fabulous male specimen distract from the reason she was here, in the first place. True, she had a much larger role to play in time, but keeping a tab on Hal Jordan was just as important. If only she had realized men like him still allowed primitive emotions to rule them. Once she had sorted out this Hal Jordan issue…

"Um, why?" she asked, more to distract herself than anything else.

"You'll see," he said noncommittally.

And that was it. That was the extent of their conversation. He never touched her again. Never said another word, and Fanci found herself feeling—all right, she could admit it—disappointed. She liked him flirting with her.

'Focus, Fanci! Focus! Stop behaving like one of his women!' Fanci mentally pinched herself.

Hal knew that Fanci was all hot and bothered. He could just feel it. Even without the power ring to tell him so. Hell, he was a still a hot blooded man, wasn't he?

Hal spotted a small diner and pulled in. He needed to eat, and from the looks of her, Fanci need a nature break.

As soon as the car stopped, Fanci got out, and rushed to the Ladies room. Hal waited patiently for her to reappear, idly watching the other inhabitants of the diner.

There was a lady at the counter ahead, nursing a coke. Two heavy set men, one bearded, one clean shaven were reading their menus, while watching the game on the TV screen attached to the wall.

In front of him was a table at which a noticeably younger crowd were merrily chatting and joking with each other.

A plump woman wearing an _'I watch my weight' _T-shirt waddled over to the cubicle next to him, and sat down, the bench sagging under her weight. Resting a huge handbag one her lap, she looked at the menu, then bowed her head briefly as if offering up a prayer, and then began to order three of the days specials, and a salad.

Hal wondered if her T-shirt message meant that she wanted to lose weight or add to it so that there would be more to watch.

Keeping an eye open for Fanci, Hal continued to scan the inside of the diner. There. A man with his back to him at the neighbouring table, his head snapping back a little too fast to suggest the glance he had just given him had been accidental. And again, only this time he didn't break eye contact. He knew Hal had seen him. He was tipping the waitress, getting up. This was it.

'GL to JLA,' Hal muttered into the com-link, hoping he was clear enough for the others to hear him over the noise. 'White hair, black…' His voice tailed off as the man turned round and nodded.

Dressed in a black suit, he was about five feet ten with a curling mop of white hair and sun-coarsened cheeks. But it was the silver band encircling his wrist that had drawn Hal's attention, its unexpected glare seeming to cast a bleaching wash over everything at the periphery of his vision.

"He's one of us," Hal breathed in disbelief, as much to himself as anyone.

The man advanced towards him. "Who are you?" Hal asked.

"You don't know me, but you recognize the band I wear," the man replied, Hal detecting a strange accent.

"I need some more identification."

"Would it help if you spoke to your friend – the Superman? He will confirm that I am who I am."

"And who are you?" asked Hal a little more forcefully.

"My name is Black Star. I'm from the Legion of Super Heroes, from your future, Hal Jordan. And I need the woman from your time who calls herself Fanci Webb."

"That's impossible. She's with me." responded Hal.

"She will need to travel back with me to the thirtieth century. I've come back for her. And you well know that the JLA of your time has been informed. They would have communicated the details to you by now. I have received confirmation that you already know what is expected of you."

There was an anxious edge to the man's voice that surprised Hal. For a super-hero and a meta, he seemed a little tense, although perhaps, revisiting the past was enough to make most people tighten up.

"I need to talk to Fanci first," Hal reminded him, feeling his stomach tightening. His power ring was in overdrive. Something wasn't right. The air was charged suddenly. There was an abrupt shift from languid calm to urgency to an almost languid calm as if…as if…

A shot rang out, its whiplash crack cutting through the diner's raucous noise. Hal turned instantly, activating his will power and the ring, turning into Green Lantern, taking in the scene before him.

The world suddenly slowing, as if someone was holding the movie projector to stop the

reel from turning - the individual frames crawling across the screen; a soda bottle being opened, the cap frozen in midflight; the soundtrack stretched into a low, slurring moan as words folded into each other. Hal's power ring making every noise and image sharper, keener than ever…

Then, almost immediately, everything sprang forward, only sharper, louder and faster than before, as if time was overcompensating as it tried to catch up with itself. The bottle cap fell to the table, the diners continued dining, the youth at the table laughing loudly. But their celebration was drowned out by a terrified scream, one voice triggering another and that one, two, more until, like a flock of migrating birds wheeling through a darkening sky, a sustained, shrieking lament filled the air.

Green Lantern moved instinctively to his left. Fanci was lying on the floor. Her blouse was stained bright red.


	15. Chapter 15

Kicking their chairs out from under them, people began to run, half-drunk beverages collapsing to the floor and neatly stacked piles of potato chips collapsing onto the table cloths as the customers clambered over each other like sheep trying to escape.

Green Lantern flew across to Fanci's side, Black Star only a few feet behind him. She was still alive, thank God, her eyes wide with shock, but still alive. He ripped her blouse open, saw the blood frothing from under her left breast.

"It's okay," Green Lantern reassured her, leaning close so she could hear him. She nodded, lifted her head as if to speak, then fell back.

"She needs to survive. How bad has she been hit?" Black Star was no longer wearing his black suit and had metamorphosed into a caped crusader in stark black. The only aspect to break the unrelieved black was the thick silver belt around his lean waist. His blond hair fell over his forehead as he fell to his knees next to Green Lantern as the fire alarm sounded.

"We need to rush her to hospital," Green Lantern shouted over the noise, ripping a tablecloth off a nearby table and folding it into a makeshift pillow.

"Press down-" He grabbed Black Star's hand and jammed it hard against the wound.

Activating his power ring, he scanned the area. Simultaneously, he quickly informed the rest of the JLA about the firing, giving them his coordinates, telling them that Black Star was with him and Fanci.

"Where in Pluto's name are you going?" Black Star called after him.

"To find the shooter."

Hal leapt up on to service counter, knowing from the location of her wound and the direction she'd been facing that the gunman must have been positioned somewhere ahead of her.

Scanning the floor, he suddenly noticed an unexpected shimmer of glass under the stampeding crowd's feet. He glanced instinctively up at the ceiling and saw that a single mirrored panel was missing from its reflective surface, the empty black square as obvious as a decaying tooth in an otherwise perfect smile.

Green Lantern used his power ring to fly through the long white service corridor lit by

overhead strip lighting, scanning for a pair of shoes, or a uniform, or a face that didn't

quite fit. Ahead of him, about two thirds of the way down the corridor, a door opened and a man wearing a baseball cap stepped out.

Green Lantern noticed him immediately. It was his studied calmness that gave him away.

His calmness and the detached, almost curious expression on his face. He seemed to notice Green Lantern at almost the same time because, grimacing, he turned and retreated back inside, locking the door behind him.

Green Lantern flew down the corridor after him, tried the handle and then stepped back and used his power ring as a sledge hammer to break down the door lock. With a firm kick, the door splintered open.

Carefully, using his ring to cover the angles above him, Green Lantern made his way up the stairs into the shadows of the observation deck, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He felt the shooter before he saw him, the metal walkways shuddering under his heavy step as he sprinted along the gantries away from him.

Green Lantern set off after him, trying to guess where he'd turned, so that he wouldn't end up stranded in a different section of the floor. Up ahead the gunman paused and then in an instant was over the side of the gantry and dangling down over the suspended ceiling below.

As Green Lantern followed the gunman, the man seemed to be waiting for him, backpack hitched over one arm. For an instant, no longer, they stood about twenty feet apart, their eyes locked. The gunman studied Green Lantern with a detached curiosity; as a beam of yellow light locked onto the gunman and as Green Lantern watched, he vanished before his eyes. Unable to use his power ring to stop the gunman's disappearance, Green Lantern tried to identify the elemental signature of the light beam.

Too late.

In an instant, the gunman was gone.

Wonder Woman received the JLA signal and responded instantly. The JLA had paired her with Superman. She would simply fly across to his apartment in Metropolis and meet him there. Then, they could use the tele-porter tube to anyplace they needed to go. To the thirtieth century if necessary.

Ensuring that the com-link was on, so that she could receive more updates, Wonder Woman flew out of Themyscira House. She stopped outside the window of Superman's apartment, hovering in the air. She had done this often enough. She was just about to raise the shutter and call out to Superman, when Kal himself walked into the bedroom. He had obviously just walked out of the shower.

Wonder Woman stopped breathing. Her lungs just seized and she stopped breathing.

"Sweet Aphrodite," she croaked and managed to inhale. She was seeing more of Superman than she had ever thought she would; everything, in fact. Kal stood in front of the dresser in the room, stark naked. Wonder Woman barely had time to admire his butt, before he took a bottle of orange juice from the bedside table, twisting off the top and tilting it to his mouth as he turned around.

She forgot all about his butt. He was more impressive coming – no pun intended – than he was going, and that was saying something, because his butt was severely cute. The man was hung.

"Ah, Zeus, were you so blessed," she gasped. The fact was, Superman looked pretty damn good all over. He was tall, lean in the waist, hard-muscled, super…

She wrenched her gaze north just a little and saw he had a nice, hairy chest. Normally, that was covered by the big red S on his body suit. She already knew he had a good face. A cleft in his chin, sexy blue eyes, white teeth, spit curl, a good laugh. And he had a fantastic character to go with this stupendous body.

She pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was doing more than pitter- pattering; it was trying to sledgehammer its way through her sternum. Other parts of her body were joining in the excitement. She didn't notice or sense Erato hovering out of sight, smirking at her unease.

'This was insane,' she thought to herself. If she gave into this reaction (most un-Princess like, most un-Amazonian), she would be running right over to audition as his mattress.

Oblivious of the tumult going on inside her, as well as the heart-stopping view in front of her, the world below continued on its way. Cars pulled in to the porch of the apartment blocks, people got out, people got in, cars pulled away. The doormen continued to open doors and bob their heads in salute. Their priorities were obviously a mess.

Wonder Woman got herself under control with some difficulty. It was a good thing she was Amazon born and bred, Amazon trained. And not a mortal woman or she might have reacted differently. But Amazon or mortal woman, she still appreciated beauty, and Kal was a work of art, an epitome of male beauty – definitely a candidate for a classic Greek statue and maybe even a modern-day pin-up. Wonder Woman pinched herself mentally – what was she blabbering about? She was made of sterner stuff than this. And she was certainly no stranger to the naked human form – not with so many thousand years of Greek gods and goddesses behind her culture and upbringing.

She saw him cross the bedroom and stand in front of his closet. He was standing in profile to her now. Ah, Aphrodite, what would you do? Well, that was a stupid question. Aphrodite would lose no time in bedding Kal. The better question was, what should Diana do? Kal was her Best Friend!

She took another deep breath and opened her mouth to whisper to him, knowing she would embarrass him and herself. But she had to warn him, had to do the right thing. And besides, she had nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't as if she was using super-vision to spy on him or play peek-a-boo. She was legitimately flying outside his window. It was Kal who was walking around naked. True, he was nude in his own apartment, but still…

"Um…Kal."

"Diana," came the response, his voice deep and sexy in its tones.

"I hate to tell you this, but you might want to…put some clothes on, or at least, close your

curtains. I'm just outside your window and you're nude. I…." her voice trailed off.

Kal wheeled to face the window, and they stared at each for the space of a heartbeat. He didn't dart to the side or squat out of sight or do anything else that might indicate embarrassment. Instead, he grinned. Kal actually grinned at her.

Hera, Diana wished he wouldn't do that. She felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment.

"Got an eyeful, did you?" he asked as he walked to the window and they stared at each other for the length of a heartbeat.

"Yes, I did."

He pulled the curtains together. "I'll be with you in a second," he said.

"Thank you," Diana said.

"My pleasure," he chuckled. "Maybe you can return the favor sometime."

Wonder Woman waited patiently, had almost succeeded in regaining her composure, when the com-link crackled.

"Wonder Woman, this is Batman. You might want to switch off the com-link next time you and Superman have something personal to say to each other."

"Wonder Woman, Black Canary here. I have to ask, did you just tell Superman that he was nude?"

"Flash to Wonder Woman, switch off the com-link next time you and Big Blue need to chat."

"GA to WW. Wow, that sounded hot."

Wonder Woman's hard won composure cracked again. She had forgotten that the JLA com-link have been activated and was on, all the time that she was talking to Superman. He, of course, with his super senses did not need one. But she was wearing hers, and designed as they were, to pick up the slightest whisper, their conversation had been broadcast to all the Leaguers.

Gaea! How could she look at Superman again without remembering him naked? How could she meet any of the others without them mercilessly teasing her about it? How could she meet Superman without blushing or letting him see the effect he had had on her? She was still not fully comfortable with his kisses and the assault on her senses. Now, this.

He hadn't been embarrassed, though, so why should she? They were both adults, right? She had certainly seen naked men before.

Well, statues of naked men and a one or two naked Greek heroes.

She had just never seen Kal naked before.


	16. Chapter 16

"Where are the cops? They need to set up a perimeter," Green Lantern ordered angrily.

"It's a little late for that," Black Star shrugged helplessly at the untamed mob that had already spilled out on to the pavement outside the little diner, bringing the traffic to a standstill as they surged across the road. "Thankfully, your time has not yet mastered air travel or the crowds would be more unmanageable."

Green Lantern used his power ring to create a medevac for Fanci as he flew her to the emergency care unit at the nearest hospital. Gently placing her on the bed inside the green bubble, he used the power ring to stabilize her vital signs and staunch the blood. Glaring resentfully at Black Star would not help heal Fanci quicker, but would certainly make him feel better.

"How is she?" asked Black Canary, who was monitoring the JLA satellite, over the com-link.

'The paramedics are with her now," Green Lantern said. "She's lost a lot of blood."

"Where is she?"

"They're taking her into surgery."

"Don't leave her alone," Black Canary responded.

Fanci was being loaded onto a stretcher by two medics, a drip attached to her arm and an oxygen mask over her face.

"I'm going with her," Green Lantern shouted over the cacophony of the O.T.

"No way," the presiding medical officer called back. "You'll only hamper us."

"I wasn't asking for your permission."

Keeping his head down, Green Lantern sprinted across the corridor and made sure he was behind the stretcher, just as the doors of the O.T slammed shut behind him.

"How is she?" Green Lantern asked one of the medics as they hooked her up to the ECG, her pulse registering with a green blip on the screen and a sharp tone - Beep…beep…beep. Around them power and warning lights from other machines flashed and sounded intermittently.

"Who are you?"

"A friend."

"She's lost a lot of blood…we need to operate immediately."

"Is she conscious?"

"In and out. Try talking to her. Keep her awake."

Green Lantern moved forward until he was sitting next to Fanci's head. The glow of the ECG screen was staining her skin green. Her eyes flickered open and he was not sure if the trembling smile he saw was a smile of recognition for him. How could it be? He was in Green Lantern gear. Too late now to change back to Hal Jordan. He would just have to hang in there. With Fanci.

"Hold on, Fanci," he whispered, pressing his lips to her ear. "You'll be okay. Don't you go and die on me."

She nodded weakly. He brushed the hair out of her eyes, speaking almost to himself.

"You're going to be okay. I'll make sure you're okay."

Beep…beep…beep.

He smiled at her reassuringly, glad that she couldn't see the doctors' grim-faced expressions as they worked on the wound, the blood still oozing from her chest. He felt her hand reach for his, her grip tightening as she pulled him closer, her mouth moving under the oxygen mask.

In the hospital room, Green Lantern bent over Fanci, straining to hear her voice against the rhythmic pinging of the heart monitor. He caught something, the fragment of a word, perhaps more, and then her eyes closed again and her grip loosened as unconsciousness overtook her.

"Come on, Fanci," Green Lantern called, shaking her arm gently at first and then with increasing urgency.

"We're nearly there now. You're going to be okay. You just need to keep listening to me. Listen to my voice."

He shook her again, more roughly this time. There was a slight flickering of her eyelashes, and the gradual, almost imperceptible lengthening of the gaps between each tone of the ECG.

Beep…beep. Beep……beep. Beep………beep.

Green Lantern used his power ring to heal Fanci's body internally, to stabilize her, to help speed the healing process up. He hoped she would recover consciousness.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her cheek. He knew now that it was just him and her.

Him and her and the hiss of the respirator and the unfeeling pulse of the ECG's electronic heart.

"Stay alive. Stay with me," he whispered.

Superman and Wonder Woman flew to the hospital to meet Green Lantern and team up to explore the situation with Fanci Webb. Superman was especially keen to meet Black Star and see if he knew him from his own Legion days.

Wonder Woman was careful not to look at Superman. The first few moments had felt odd to her. But Kal had smiled at her, and she had looked back into his clear blue eyes and felt oddly at peace.

Still, it was difficult not to let her eyes stray below his belt.

Ah, Athena, what was the matter with her? She was an Amazon, wasn't she?

"Diana," said Superman, breaking into her thoughts. "After this is over, I want to talk to you. We need to discuss many things and not all of them are JLA."

Wonder Woman looked at Superman, turning her face sideways to see him. She carefully checked that the JLA com-link was off before she spoke, "Kal, if it's about earlier today, then, I've seen naked heroes before. It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" asked Superman in disbelief. "No big deal? And just who have you seen naked before?"

Wonder Woman couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was that a jealous tone in Superman's voice? Why was he reacting this way? Surely nakedness had nothing to do with their relationship? Why she and her sisters were certainly not shy about their own nudity. And they didn't react like Superman if they saw one another naked.

She herself had been thinking about his beautiful body when Superman had interrupted her thoughts. True, she wasn't lying when she said that she had seen other naked male forms before, but it was foolish to lie to herself where Kal was concerned. She had enjoyed feasting her eyes on the rough, dark, male hair that curled invitingly across his wide chest, had wanted to run her palms over that chest and feel the hard resilience of muscle over bone, had wanted to place her cheek against those smooth, hard muscles that rippled beneath his skin, and listen to the soft, steady beat of his heart.

But now...

But there was no time to discuss this now. So, using all her Amazonian training to get her feelings under control, she simply said, "Kal, after this mission is over, we'll talk. I promise. We'll discuss whatever you want."

Superman didn't seem convinced but he nodded his head. Diana's promise was precious to him. And this time, he would hold her to it.

As they walked in to Fanci Webb's hospital room, Superman's eyes took in the scene before him. He quickly scanned the area with his x-ray vision, then scanned Fanci's body. Her vital signs didn't seem to offer too much hope but Superman registered something else. In the lobe of her left ear was a microscopic chip, conveniently colored yellow.

Wonder Woman looked hard at Hal Jordan. For a Green Lantern, he seemed to be more than a little distraught. Wonder Woman thought that was odd. Why would Hal Jordan, the first of the Green Lanterns of Earth, and a premier of the old corps, be so shaken and disturbed?

"What happened, Hal?" asked Wonder Woman, while Superman took up guard position near the door.

Green Lantern quickly explained what had happened, all the while holding Fanci's hand. He wished that there was some way to bring her back to consciousness. He didn't know why, but he felt responsible for her and he should have been responsible for her – he was Green Lantern, after all and should have protected her better. He was still coming to terms with the fact that his Fanci (he had grown used to thinking of her that way), his very own agent, Fanci Webb, had something to do with the Legion and some Legion mission. He wanted to shake her hard for not telling him in the first place. He wished he could shake her hard now.

Wonder Woman was saying, "Where's this Legionnaire called Black Star? Batman told us that we were to travel back to the future with him sort out this Fanci Webb issue."

"I want to meet him, too," said Superman.

Black Star chose that moment to join the group. "Hello Kal-El," he said. "I'm honored to meet Superman, the one who inspires us all."

Superman smiled. "Black Star. I don't know if I recall meeting you before. What mission brings you here? Who is this woman, Fanci Webb?"

As they spoke, Wonder Woman looked at Fanci Webb, lying inert and almost still on the hospital bed. Green Lantern still had not let go of her hand.

Black Star quickly repeated to the JLA-ers what he had already reported to the Legion's commander. He needed to return to the thirtieth century with Fanci. He hadn't anticipated the rapid change in events, however, and the Timor's determination to eliminate all evidence. They had used old-fashioned technology to make the hit, to avoid detection. It was lucky that Black Star had been able to alert this age's JLA in time. He just wished he had alerted them earlier. Perhaps, they would have been able to get Agent Fanci to safety.

"Agent!???" cried Green Lantern. "What do you mean Agent Fanci? She's my agent, all right, but you don't need to refer to her that way. Or does she have Muy Thai martial art skills that we don't know about?"


	17. Chapter 17

"I think he means Agent Fanci as in that she may be working for a Federal organization, somewhere in the future," Wonder Woman gently interrupted Green Lantern.

"Agent Fanci is a Time Warden with the Omega Team set up by the Inter-planetary Governance Council, which is the governing body for time and space travel," responded Black Star. "In the thirtieth century, each sector of time is allotted to a time warden. Agent Fanci is the Time Warden for this sector of time."

"And who or what is the Timor? What help do you need from us?" asked Wonder Woman.

Black Star responded, "The Timor is a group of inter-stellar mafia who manipulate time, even stealing bits of it, so that they can change the history of the Universe, to dominate it in our time. They do this across the different planets of the galaxies, playing with different histories and eras, altering events, even eradicating time-lines if necessary to achieve their goals."

"We've been working with the Omega Team to foil their efforts and to capture their leaders. It's difficult to identify them as they've mastered the art of time travel, having stolen the technology from the Turix Confederation. The Turix Confederation was a league of planets that has only recently broken alliances, with the disastrous impact of records of their technology, scientists and weaponry being lost. As a consequence, inter-planetary peace is threatened, indeed, the very existence of the Universe as we know it."

"What has this got to do with the JLA?" asked Superman.

"And the Green Lantern corps?" asked Green Lantern simultaneously.

"Well, we've received word that a group of Timor renegades are active in this time sector and have collusions with key people from Earth to change events here. Which means that the JLA will cease to exist. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't already stopped Krypton from exploding," was Black Star's terse response.

He continued, "As for the Green Lanterns, there are Timor renegades who have infiltrated the Lantern Corps and have convinced some of the Green Lanterns to join their cause. Green Lanterns are accepted in most sectors of the universe. It's this acceptability that will help the Timor escape identification."

"Stopped Krypton from exploding? How is that possible?" asked Superman. "Is that why Agent Fanci has a microscopic yellow chip in her ear?"

"What? A yellow chip in her ear lobe?" Green Lantern was surprised. This Fanci woman was turning out to be quite a handful.

"The microscopic yellow chip is a ComBot. Its not really yellow, but reflects the rays of the sun in each solar system. It would be red under a red sun. Before Agent Fanci was attacked, she managed to send me a message saying she had found the Green Lantern that was responsible for the closed loop."

"What's a closed loop?" asked Wonder Woman.

"A closed loop is a somewhen created by an attempted temporal intervention, and then choked off by a countervailing intervention, so it had been but never been. A temporal intervention is an interference with time in any sector," said Black Star.

"How could this Timor stop Krypton from exploding? Would that mean Superman of this Earth never existed?" persisted Wonder Woman.

Black Star was quick to respond, "Time is sequential—a thread spanning the distance between birth and death. Events, however, are more like ancient tapestries —thousands of richly colored threads woven into intricate patterns and images. Any attempt to place events into purely chronological order would be like pulling the threads loose and laying them end to end. It might be simpler, but you would lose the design. All events are interwoven."

"If they have succeeded in their efforts, then Superman will no longer exist, nor will the JLA. Each of you heroes has been marked by a life-changing experience. It's a simple matter to change those events. You will simply cease to be. Take Batman, for example. If his parents aren't killed in the mugging, Batman does not lose them as a child, and he does not grow up to be the Batman," was Black Star's explanation.

"What do you need us to do?" asked Wonder Woman now. Her face was a picture of concern and determination.

"I need to take Agent Fanci back with me. Agent Fanci's mandate was to blend with the people of this sector, and take on a role that allowed her to keep close to the Green Lantern, Hal Jordan. Before she was attacked, the Legion communicated with the JLA asking them to protect her. But we were unable to reveal her identity because of her undercover assignment. It was only when she signaled me that I knew that she had evidence of the Timor and knew how to locate them in this sector. If you would travel back with me, Wonder Woman and Superman, I would be honored for your help and assistance."

"What about Green Lantern?" asked Superman. "Don't you want him to come back with you?"

"We don't know how involved he is with the Timor," responded Black Star. "Agent Fanci was with him when she was attacked and she had evidence that he was responsible for a temporal intervention. He may have been a decoy for the Timor, drawing them to her. Until Agent Fanci recovers, I will need to take this Green Lantern into custody."

Wonder Woman immediately took up battle stance in front of Green Lantern. Looking at Black Star in the eye, she said, "You're wrong, Black Star. We trust this man. And we expect you to trust him, too. There's no way that you are taking him into custody when he hasn't done anything wrong and you have no proof. Only some strange woman's words."

Wonder Woman held up her lasso, "I could simply ask him if he is involved. And then the lasso will work its magic on him to get him to speak the truth."

Black Star held up a placating hand. "I don't wish to anger you, Wonder Woman. Indeed, I have the deepest respect for all of you and especially for your lasso of truth. But Green Lantern remains under suspicion, till Agent Fanci recovers to tell us what she knows."

Green Lantern ran a hand through his hair, then turned away from the group. He stood there for a moment contemplating what to do. He'd never felt so out of sorts.

In the headquarters of the JLA meeting room the following morning, the inhabitants were relaxed and the mood was jovial. The conversation was loud and often laughter could be heard.

J'onn was the first to sense the change in the atmosphere. Without turning around, he said, "Good day, my friend. You've been busy of late."

"Not too busy to miss the JLA weekly meeting," responded Batman. "Is there any news?"

"Not more than that which we have heard," said J'onn.

"It's strange that the first we hear of this Fanci Webb character is the same day that she's attacked. The Legion confirms that her mission and role is legitimate," said Batman as he walked into the meeting room and took his seat.

"I should have guessed there was something fishy about her," was Green Arrow's first comment. "Hal should have listened to me and fired her as his agent. That woman was more trouble than she was worth."

"Oh, Ollie, shut up," interrupted Black Canary. "You knew nothing about her, and after Hal let you see her in his power ring visual, the only comment you had to make was…"

"…Long legs, dynamite on heels," interjected Flash, completing Black Canary's statement.

"Her looks are not the question here. Her presence is. I've asked Superman to officially raise the main issue with the Legion and the Inter-planetary Governance Council – they cannot send a Time Warden to this sector and not alert us," continued Batman in a foreboding tone.

"Begging your pardon, Bats," said Plastic Man, "there was a message that came in for us from the Legion some weeks ago, when I was on monitor duty. They mentioned that an agent from the future would be attached to our time sector, conducting some undercover investigation activities."

"What?" snapped Batman. "Where is this message? How is it that I haven't seen it?"

"…uh, uh, gosh…" prevaricated Plastic Man, "I don't really know…."

Batman glared at Plastic Man, giving him a hard look.

"Ok, ok," yelled Plastic Man, covering his eyes. "Don't make big eyes at me. I can't handle it. I deleted the message by mistake. I intended to send to all of you, but pressed DELETE instead. And anyway, I didn't think that it was all that important."

"What did the message say?" bit out Batman

"It just said exactly that. Some agent from the future would be attached to our time, and this agent wanted to liaise with Green Lantern."

"That just about sums it up. No wonder. This Fanci Webb must have expected Green Lantern to know about her mission and so tried to get in close to Green Lantern. With disastrous results," said J'onn.

"Green Lantern is now a felon in the future. Fanci Webb may never recover. Her team partner – Black Star – is suspicious of our motives. Superman and Wonder Woman need to defuse the situation with the thirtieth century federal authorities. We may soon cease to exist. And you don't think it's important?" came the curt response from Batman.

"…ahhhhhh," said Plastic Man, "garrrrrrrr…" and he turned himself into an extension of the table top.

Batman turned away.

"Bet you Bats is going to explode," whispered Flash to Green Arrow.

"Nah, it's Bats. He's going to implode," was the whispered response.

Black Star and the JLA'ers landed in Cosmopolis.

Fanci Webb had not yet recovered consciousness and was being teleported in a womb-pod designed to keep critically injured beings alive. Black Star privately hoped that the womb-pod would be able to restore Fanci Webb to full consciousness before the meeting with the Council. It had helped that Green Lantern had used his power ring to transport her here.

It was well into the afternoon but the sun was still high in the sky. It bathed the city of Cosmopolis in brightness and warmth as it lay in the sea at the edge of the island of Themyscira.

The group took one of the hovercrafts docked at Freeport in Cosmopolis, attaching the womb-pod to the craft, using the anchor system. As they floated in the air, Black Star pointed out the highlights of the city.

Cosmopolis was a city built in an age of simplicity and understanding, where wealth, power and technology were reflected in art and architecture.

The city was filled with beautiful buildings, temples of learning, tall residential towers with gardens and terraces at every level. All the buildings were rich and white, decorated with columns of a silver metal. Frescoes, murals and carvings covered each grand building depicting heroes in battle, and gods in their might.

And everywhere there were squares filled with mini-amphitheatres, art work, statues and fountains. People came and went about their business, filling the squares, rubbing shoulders with young women who chatted coyly in the sunshine with equally young men.

On the other side of Cosmopolis, across the canal, was the causeway that led to the island of Themsycira.

Like the rest of the city, the foundations of the causeway were built from large square blocks of white, black, and red coloured stone. And the sides and parapets were richly decorated with carvings repeated in sequence. Upon this causeway ran a wide stone road that began at the square before the Senate.

The Senate building was large and architecturally beautiful, resembling a large pyramid with the symbol of the Inter-planetary Governance Council at its peak. This was, in fact, only the upper part of the building and roof, which were offices and meeting rooms.

Beneath was the Senate proper. A large open amphitheatre made of a marble like stone; the Senate was open on all sides to the outside, the pyramid above supported on great columns.

Around the Senate were apartments for the Councilors and Senators, other buildings that housed The Legion Headquarters, and the Great Hall of the Council War Room. This latter building housed the main Octagon Network Portal and the Galactic map, a three-dimensional image of the galaxies.

"It's changed since the last time I was here," Superman said in astonishment.

Black Star grinned. "The last time you were here, Superman, was a long time ago, as we measure time. Time is relative. While you grew from boy to man, the eras in between your trips to the future saw events that changed the course of history."

Wonder Woman was silent. She was still absorbing the fact that in a few minutes she would be on the Island of Themyscira. A world leader in this time era, Themyscira was role modeling and guiding other beings to live in peaceful coexistence, according to Black Star.

In the 21st century, Themyscira was located in the Bermuda Triangle. The island, however, had been blessed by the Gods with the magical ability to teleport to any location or time period its inhabitants desired.

Did the island teleport here then? Or was it the self-same island that she called home?

The thoughts running through her mind would not be stopped.

Had their ideals prevailed? Had her mission been successful?

Was her mother still Queen of the Amazons?

Another thought struck her. Amazons were immortal and so was she.

Would she come face to face with herself?


	18. Chapter 18

Fanci was reluctant to open her eyes. She felt warm and cosy, cocooned in a sheer hug of well-being. Pink and yellow rays of light swirled in delicate patterns all around her in the darkness of the womb-pod. Her breath came in white clouds that mixed briefly with the glow of lights before it dissipated quickly. Alternately, the lights on the rim of the pod flickered, giving the scene an orange glow. Fanci felt the heat from the orange lights on her skin, warming her body. Her bones ached and her skin was sore, but she was alive.

Fanci opened her eyes. She lay in the darkness for a while, trying to remember where she was and what she was doing here. Slowly the events came back to her. The shooting, the pain, the memory of Hal Jordan of the 21st century time sector...

The womb-pod registered her return to consciousness and released another compound into the air, while sending out radio signals and changing the colour of its external shell to green.

Inside the machine, Fanci's heart pumped more strongly, the blood surged within her and a burst of adrenalin fed her muscles and her brain. She breathed deeply, her skin tingled, her muscles ached, and her mind felt contentment.

She felt absolutely marvelous.

Black Star's ComBot received the signal, alerting him. He turned to the group with him and smiled broadly, pointing to the womb-pod, which was now glowing with a soft green colour. "Fanci's recovered consciousness," he announced.

"She has?" asked Green Lantern, hope soaring within his chest. Maybe now that meddlesome woman would tell this super-cop legionary that Green Lantern was free from blame. As soon as he was free, he was going to get Fanci alone in a corner, where no one could see them and shake her hard for not being honest with him. Maybe in the future, women....

"How do we talk to her?" Superman's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Well, Fanci and I generally use the ComBots to communicate, but you'll have to use your voice," said Black Star brightly.

Wonder Woman suppressed a smile. It was rare to hear someone state the obvious to Superman.

Then Black Star's cheeks turned pink. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to sound condescending. I spoke without thinking. As soon as the womb-pod has finished doing its work, it will click open and you'll be able to talk to her."

As if to prove his words, the machine gave a gentle whirring sound, and there was soft click as the two halves of the pod separated.

As they watched, a hand slid between the halves and pushed the top part up.

The face looking back at them registered shock, wonder and amazement.

"Superman, Wonder Woman, what are..." began Fanci and stopped, confusion marking her face. Then she turned a little to look at Green Lantern and began again, "Hal, I..."

The words died in her throat as Hals' lips descended to devour her mouth in a demanding kiss. With slow deliberation his mouth met hers. His kiss was savage, fierce, impatient. His insistent lips pushed hers apart as his tongue probed forcefully inside the welcoming warmth, claiming and extracting from her responses she tried to withhold but was powerless to prevent. The kiss went on and on.

Just when she feared she would faint from lack of breath, he drew away, his piercing gaze probing intently, as he said, "Fanci, don't you ever scare me like that again." His voice rose slightly, "Do you hear me?" Hal practically yelled at her.

Embarrassed and coping with new emotions, Fanci tried to avoid looking at the other heroes in the hover craft. Wonder Woman merely raised one beautiful brow before she walked forward to embrace Fanci, whispering in her ear, "Don't worry about Hal, his bark is worse than his bite." As she came out of the embrace, she said, "Well, Fanci, it's time to tell us everything. We meet your Council in a little while."

***

It was a pensive group that disembarked from the hovercraft.

As they walked towards the Senate, Fanci continued to talk. She didn't know why the JLA had not responded to the Legion's message about her undercover assignment. She paused a moment to walk through a doorway, emerging in a figure hugging body suit that was standard issue for federal agents.

She verified that Hal Jordan had indeed been responsible for a closed loop. Inadvertently, while recharging his power ring, his thoughts had strayed briefly to the future and to reports of the Timor that the Oans had sent to the GL corps. The combined power of the battery and his power ring and Green Lantern's thoughts combining with the intensity of his will had opened the force field briefly, allowing the Timor to enter the 21st century. Since the Green Lantern named Hal Jordan had behaved so strangely with her, she had felt unable to trust him with her role and identity. She didn't know if he had turned rogue.

Fanci had felt the elemental residue of time travel when she had met Indira Dhody, who she suspected was none other than a Timor group leader. She mentioned the bracelet that the Indira Dhody had been wearing and her own recognition of the metal it was made from. A metal only recently discovered 3025, in fact, Fanci had a similar one in her own closet here in Cosmopolis. The group listened intently as she listed each point.

Entering the anteroom of the Octagon, Black Star paused. The panel displaying the history of the 21st century was rapidly moving, pictures forming, a blur of events, some moments of clarity, then blurring again.

With growing consternation, the group watched the panel in silence. The effects of the Timor's crimes against time had already begun

***

In the JLA headquarters in the 21st century, J'onn watched in amazement as the Batman, Plastic Man, Green Arrow and Flash disappeared from around the Council room. As he continued to watch, he realized that the JLA headquarters itself was slowly dissolving, leaving huge empty spaces as features vanished.

Black Canary, the sole other JLA'er remaining, began to gasp for breath as the compressed chambers were opened to space. Afraid that she might die, J'onn quickly lifted her into his arms, then flew to the teleport tube that was yet unaffected, activating it for Earth.

As they landed in Metropolis, J'onn took in the changed look of the city in one quick glance. As a reviving Black Canary gratefully took huge gasps of air, J'onn realized that they had landed in the midst of a war.  
Sending out his thought waves, the Martian attempted to discover exactly what was happening and seek help from the other metas and heroes.

As he reached into the brain-waves of the JLA'ers who had vanished, he quickly discovered startling facts:

Bruce Wayne was simply Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, playing golf unconcernedly. J'onn's attempts to probe for Batman's mind and thought processes met with nothing. It was as if there was no Batman, had never been.

Flash was a happily married man who didn't display any knowledge of the ability to move faster than light.

And as for Green Arrow, he was no longer the Emerald Archer. As J'onn probed his mind, he realized that this new Oliver Queen was simply focused on one thing - pleasure for Oliver Queen.

Plastic Man was had somehow retained his ability to stretch and mould himself. But it was a very different Plastic Man. He was a freak attraction in an amusement park where he kept 75% of all takings.

Martians never felt emotion, not as humans did, but J'onn could swear that he was confused and astounded. Returning his gaze to Black Canary, who was watching him, he told her of the changes.

"But why hasn't anything happened to us?" asked Black Canary

"I don't know," admitted J'onn, "and its not likely that we'll know soon. We need to, perhaps, put this behind us and find out what this war is about."

The Kryptonian fleet was a colourful spectacle. Each battle-cruiser differed slightly from all the others, to distinguish each commander, each was embellished differently.

Every ship was an individual, named and painted to reflect the personality of the commander who led it. Although they each differed in detail, colour, size and style, they were all built to a similar design. A double hull, joined by a wide wing with a serrated front edge. Above and to the front of the wing was a third hull, built in the shape of a sweeping dorsal fin. It was wider at the base where it joined the wing and reached out on either side to each of the other two hulls. At the top it narrowed until it swept back to a final point. The whole of this third hull was ribbed and the fin had a saw-tooth front edge. Each edge could fire omega beams that that could lay waste huge cities.

As Commander Kara looked out over the fleet, she thought briefly of how pretty and colourful the ships looked against the darkness of space.

And ahead of them, the third planet of this primitive star system, Earth was growing visibly larger.

(Author's note: Some scenes in this chapter are a tribute to the fanfic penned by ben10987654321a titled 'Invasion Earth'.) 


	19. Chapter 19

"We're at war!" Jimmy exclaimed.

Lois couldn't believe it when the President announced it. The newscast had been interrupted for the President's address to the nation. This was quickly followed by the UN General Assembly address to the world.

At the offices of The Daily Planet, everyone was excited and anxious, and rumours abounded. The truth was a shock.

Earth was being invaded by the Kryptonian Empire. A far-off planet in a solar system that was lit up by a red sun, Earth had only recently heard of Krypton.

Everyone wanted to ask questions, and some of The Daily Planet staffers cried. But Jimmy Olsen was as excited as ever. "Are you sending us out to cover the story, Chief?" he called out.

"Yes, of course, I expect the story to be covered, but while you keep yourselves safe," Perry answered firmly. "You are to remain in this building at all times, and under no circumstances are you to leave or to try and go out. When I know that it is safe, I will tell you. Until then you will have to be patient."

"How could that be Kara?" asked Superman in disbelief, looking at the images of the Kryptonian fleet.

"It is her, Kal-El," came a cool, controlled voice from behind them. "The warp in the threads of time have just not reached this moment yet. We have only a few hours to act. Already, the time threads are unraveling and Chronos reigns in chaos."

As the group turned to face the newcomer's voice, Wonder Woman registered disbelief.

The speaker was a woman of great beauty, the type of beauty that comes from having lived through life's challenges and triumphing. She had long black, curly hair and a face that mirrored Wonder Woman's own face. Dressed in a long gown decorated with delicate stitches, a crown adorned the unruly curls that framed her face. Clear blue eyes looked back at her.

"Ou'le, sister! Who are you?" asked Wonder Woman, giving her the traditional Amazonian salute, hands crossed over her breasts.

"You wear the colors and symbols of Themyscira's champion, do you not know me?" asked the woman, coming forward to stand in front of her. "My name is Diana, and I am Queen of Themyscira," she said more softly now. "It is my tenure now, to preside over the Council. I am she whom you seek."

"Where is Queen Hippolyta?" asked Wonder Woman.

"She no longer reigns. She has another role to fulfill and other duties to do," replied Queen Diana. "I can only share a limited amount of information with you, for the future changes as does the present when the past does. What I can tell you is that the Timor is no simple foe. The gods lend themselves to this battle. And not since Troy has the world seen the gods take sides."

"The gods – you mean the Olympians? Is this the work of Ares, then?" asked Wonder Woman.

"Aye, Ares is ambitious, and ambition in gods, as in men, is dangerous. Ares has raised Chronos, and turned time back on itself. Ares, vying for Zeus' throne, has allowed Chronos to release Aither and Chaos. Chronos himself is the force that has created the Timor. As for Ares, he himself has let loose the dogs of war. He has promised much to each god to desert Zeus, but some still hold true to the Father of the Sky. Yet, while the gods war among themselves, all the Universe suffers. The oracle has been consulted. It is you, the Champion of Gods, Diana of Themyscira, now called Wonder Woman, who must bring peace to the gods and to us."

The ships that had taken off from Kandor and Xalaharon had reached Metropolis, Gotham and Star City.

At Gotham, the Kryptonians had positioned heavy atomic artillery to attack. Scores of invaders took to the air, the yellow sun affecting their physiognomy to give them the powers of flight, super strength, super-vision, etc.

The battle for Earth took place between air and ground and was one-sided. The Kryptonians shot at anything in the city, their purpose seemingly to destroy everything. They used heavy weaponry to bring down buildings around them. Each bright beam left a blackened pockmark in the surface of the earth. But the firepower from the large battle-cruisers floating above the city was much more effective. In one blast, a dozen regiments of the military forces of Earth would be blown to fiery fragments. And the ships fired down at the packed streets constantly. It was a protracted and devastating offensive.

The metas and other heroes remaining, who had not been affected by the rift of time fought valiantly against the invaders. But each of the invaders was as powerful as Superman. It was like fighting against a thousand Supermen at once. And the Kryptonoians had taken to the sky – exulting in their new found powers, trying out heat vision and super strength, flying like locusts across the great cities of Earth.

To escape the onslaught, Earth's heroes would hide in the ruined buildings, or race down the entrances of the underground rapid transit system. The underground tunnels were perfect for them. Here they could move about the city unobserved, safe from aerial attack, until they emerged again to attack the Kryptonians. But as soon as they reappeared, the ships would float towards them again, firing down at any metas in the street, or who were exposed when a building was hit. And many buildings were hit.

At first the Kryptonians were reluctant to fire down at the grand buildings in the city, but when the first of their ships finally succumbed to the constant barrage of laser blasts from below (commandeered by the Titans) and it fell into a suburb engulfing the houses in a ball of fire and smoke, their reluctance ended. From then on, the earth was doomed.

In the end, the heroes gave up to avoid destroying their own cities and killing their own people.

The news was not good.

The Daily Planet reported the unprovoked attack in the square, and the battle in the streets that had followed. It was a battle that was still going on. But worse news was to follow.

As the people remained glued to their television screens, the mayor of Metropolis made a brief appearance on air. She spoke gravely, but without emotion.

"At four-fifteen pm today, Metropolis fell to the Kryptonians. We are now under military law. Commander Kara of the Kryptonian Empire assures us that you will be treated well. You are to be evacuated to refugee camps immediately. Transports are waiting outside. Please follow the Marshall's instructions and move calmly and quickly to the exits."

There were gasps of amazement and cries that it couldn't be true. And amid them all were stronger protests, different reactions…

One of the young students watching in the malls waved his arms in the air. "What about my mum and dad?" he shouted.

A young lady with two children in the street outside cried, "I'm not going anywhere without daddy! He'll be coming for me! He will! I know he will!"

Bruce Wayne felt a moment of annoyance, he would have to cancel his golf game today, if he had to be evacuated. Why did no-one know the weaknesses of the invaders?

Oliver Queen was in bed with two sinuous models – he had gotten into bed with them the previous evening and had yet to get out of bed. Despite being irritated that his amorous interlude was interrupted, he felt that he was missing something.

As she watched conquest of this star system from the Kryptonian Council Room, Kara felt a twinge of familiarity, almost déjà-vu. The Mayor had not lied - the people were going to colonial camps. From, there, they would be taken to inhabit and work in the colonies on the outposts of the Kryptonian Empire, where loss of life was high. She watched as Cosmic-Marshalls evacuated the building called The Daily Planet. It was a news paper gency.

This primitive world still read newspapers. A lady with dark hair and a young man with yellow hair were being pushed along by the crowd.

Kara felt she knew them, but surely she had never seen them before?

(Author's note: Some scenes in this chapter are a tribute to the fanfic penned by ben10987654321a titled 'Invasion Earth'.) 


	20. Chapter 20

Wonder Woman stood before the control console at the Octagon Ring Network Portal. It was a large eight-sided room paneled in the rich red woods of Themyscira. The figures of sylph-like women clad in armour, with their hair blowing behind them, in military pose or on horseback or in Council were carved on each of the panels.

The room was furnished with comfortable armchairs and low tables. Scrolls and books, ancient and modern, were stacked on the tables. Many were from Themyscira, many more from distant worlds, their alien scripts illegible. Superman could read them all.

Near the centre of the room was a rotating globe showing all the constellations, the stars of all the heavens, the many star systems and the innumerable plants, the entire Universe.

Green Lantern, Black Star and Fanci Webb watched as Wonder Woman and Superman approached the globe. Superman turned the globe, as if studying the low relief planets and astral bodies. He suddenly stopped the globe and unhinged a quadrant, revealing a hidden control panel inside.

His fingers flew over the controls, and above him, the portal projectors glowed into life. Colours filled the centre circle of the ceiling, and directly below it a grey sea of mist began to swirl. In a few seconds, the grey mist rose up to the ceiling and became a cylinder. Slowly the cylinder became opaque, and then a beam of bright sunshine appeared. The cylinder of grey vanished. In its place was a circular pad of polished white stone. And above it was an intense light that filled the whole room. There was the sound of the sea, and a breeze blew the scent of salt on the warm air.

Sunshine, warmth, white stone, and a man.

Superman stepped away from the globe and stared at the man.

It was Wonder Woman who said, "Lord Ares, you are not the one I expected to see."

Ares smiled and stepped off the white stone. Now he was in the room proper. "And I did not expect to see you still here, either," he replied.

They stood face to face. Ares was taller than Wonder Woman. He had fair hair and piercing blue eyes. His features were strong, and although stern, were not unpleasing to the eye. He was also strongly built, his body bronzed under the white gown, leather tunic and white cloak he wore. The tunic was armoured at the chest and was studded as it reached down over his short skirt.

His arms and legs were bare and he wore sandals on his feet. In contrast to his style of dress, his belt supported a laser saber and as well as the more correct short sword, and the helmet he held in one hand was a plastic composite. There was also a chronological Geo-Sat locator strapped to his wrist.

"What must I do to leash Chronos?" asked Wonder Woman of Ares.

"Do? Why, you must do nothing at all," Ares silkily murmured. "At last the time draws near for me to take the throne of Zeus and my will _will_ be done!"

"By letting loose the dogs of war, and letting chaos reign supreme? By unraveling time itself? What will you gain?" asked Wonder Woman.

"Chronos unravels what I need. When Zeus is undone, then and only then, will I stop. You had better bid good bye to your friend here – he will soon no longer live in this form. Already, he is my servant, many years past," was the chilling response Ares made.

Wonder Woman braced herself, arms on waist, legs akimbo, ready to fight, saying "I will not go without a fight. I am Amazonian and we don't give in easily."

"Your stubbornness is tiresome!" Ares exclaimed as he stepped back. "You were not commanded to leave Earth! I sent you this command myself before I left your era! What do you do here?"

"I am not yours to command, " was Wonder Woman's soft response, glad now that they had left with Fanci and Black Star when they did.

"Ah, Diana of Themyscira, do you not ken what must be? I would have you by my side and ruler of all the heavens. Who better than us to rule the heavens? The God of War and the Goddess of Truth. All war would then be righteous ones." Ares smiled slyly, "You have only to say, 'Yes'."

Superman stepped forward, "Diana, don't. You don't have to agree to anything he says."

Wonder Woman heard the quiet desperation in Superman's voice and wondered at it, while responding to Ares, "Lord Ares, not for nothing, are you known as the Lord of Lies, too. How do I know you speak the truth?"

Ares laughed. A sinister sound that echoed in the room. "I will strike a pact with you. Diana of Themsycira. Your champions and heroes against mine. Should mine win, you will cease all attempts to stop me and reign by my side, content as my queen. Should yours win, I will consign Chronos to the cave of Nyx, from whence he came."

"My champions against yours? I have no champions. I fight myself against your own champions," said Wonder Woman, a hint of steel in her tone as she looked hard at Ares.

Ares laughed again. "No, Diana, once a goddess. You cannot fight this time. Your companions here will fight for you, while all battles pause a moment in time."

While he spoke Ares gestured to the others in the room – Black Star, Fanci Webb, Green Lantern and Superman. "Think about it, Diana. You save many lives by agreeing."

Wonder Woman turned towards the group who watched her somberly. "What are your thoughts?" she asked them. "I don't know who his champions are, and what trials face you. It's unfair to ask you to fight in my stead."

"No," said Fanci. "If you will risk your life for us, we can do no less. You have my consent. I will fight."

"As will I," said Black Star.

"And I." said Green Lantern.

"You know you can count on me," was Superman's quiet response.

Her heart sinking, Wonder Woman turned back to Ares, saying, "I agree. Lord Ares. So let it be done. Do we have a witness to the pact?"

"Aye, Hermes will witness it for us," was the response.

"I seek a few minutes with my companions," said Wonder Woman now.

Without waiting for a response from the God of War, she walked up to the group waiting for her. "I would save you the pain of this fight, if I could. I wish that you had never come with me. Now, listen carefully. I don't know what deviousness he will come up with. Or who he will send to fight you or how. But do know this, he will use your weaknesses against you. Be on your guard, therefore, and allow no other thoughts to cross your minds."

She embraced each in turn, whispering a few more words in each one's ear. When she reached Superman, her embrace became closer still, almost making it difficult for him to breathe, leaving a warm imprint of her lips against his. Stepping back, she looked him in the face, saying, "Come back to me."

"I will," he said.

Taking a few steps backwards, she saluted them with Amazonian salute, arms crossed, high above her head. "Fare thee well, my friends."

"Your job here is done. Come back with me through the portal." Ares stepped closer to the portal. He held out his hand, inviting Wonder Woman to follow him. Ignoring his hand, she walked through.

Ares sighed and lowered his hand, before following her in.


	21. Chapter 21

As the group watched them disappear, they heard the sound of angelic laughter.

The sound filled the room with beauty and stirred the soul. The room filled with the fragrance of roses.

The group looked towards the circle of white stone bathed in sunlight. Green Lantern's eyes were round and unbelieving. A tiny foot in an elegant shoe appeared. It stepped on to the far edge of the white stone circle as if emerging from behind a veil. It was followed by a long and supple leg. A hip and lissome waist then appeared; clad in a delicate fabric of silver that was so fine it almost wasn't there. More of her body came into view as she climbed slowly and elegantly on to the portal, her shoulders being her broadest feature. Finally, upon a long and graceful neck, came a regal head with the most exquisite of features.

At last she stood in all her glory at the centre of the stone circle, the breeze rippling her wispy blonde hair. The silver dress she wore floated in the air around her like tissue, revealing far too much of her amazing body. She was tall, her shape a tantalizingly long and lithesome form. Her hips were slim and her waist was hardly thicker than a man's arm. Her breasts were full and firm. Like her body, her limbs were well shaped.

The sylph-like figures that decorated the wooden panels around the room suddenly appeared heavy and clumsy.

A voluptuous, blonde haired goddess.

Aphrodite held out her long arms and bent slightly forward. Her hands were elegant, her fingers graceful as they beckoned to Green Lantern.

"No," said Fanci, "don't go. Don't trust her. We need to stay together for the battles ahead."

"Come to me, Emerald Warrior." It was the voice of an angel.

Mesmerized by her voice, Green Lantern walked forward, took her tiny hands in his, and stepped onto the stone pad. They stood together in the centre of the circle, bathed in the sunlight, her slim form towering over his.

He looked up at her exquisite face, uncaring.

Ares was heard laughing out loud. "Ha! The lure of a Goddess can never be denied!"

An instant later the scene vanished.

The room was suddenly empty and cold, as if the life had gone out of the place.

Green Lantern wondered why he had been chosen by the goddess. Surely, Superman was a better specimen of a man to consort with? What motive did the Aphrodite have?

Aphrodite stood a little distance away from him. She had her back to him. She was standing on her toes at full height, her arms out-stretched and her head tilted back, her face raised to the sun. Her fine golden hair cascaded from her head. It reached beyond her waist. And the fine silver dress she wore almost disappeared in the bright sunlight.

The sight of her transfixed Green Lantern. She had such a graceful form that he could almost imagine the breeze carrying her off. He wanted so much to run his fingers through that fine hair, to embrace her tall but slim form.

Aphrodite flexed her supple fingers and then dropped her arms to her side and sank down from her toes.

Green Lantern could resist no longer. He stepped forward and encircled her waist with his hands. His fingers met and overlapped on her stomach. "Why do you pull me here, Aphrodite?" he asked.

She turned in his grip, facing him and stopping him by placing her long fingers gently over his mouth. With a smile full of laughter, Aphrodite said, "Do I not look like your ideal woman? Have you never described me as I am, to your comrade-in-arms, the Archer?"

"Yes, well…but that's only a dream," began Green Lantern.

"Shh, now. The decision was mine. This war is not your war. Our lives are meant for pleasure. Let us make love not war, Warrior Hal."

When she had turned, Green Lantern had let his hands move down over hips on to her bottom. Now he slowly moved his hands back up her long and sinuous body, moving them around to the front until they had reached her chest. Once there, he gently cupped her burgeoning breasts and looked at her with the eagerness of a child.

She looked back at him. "You wish to consort with me?"

"How can I stand so close to you and not feel the power of your body?"

"Yes, the power of my body," she repeated smiling divinely at him. "Ares, too, is overcome by my power."

Green Lantern looked surprised. "You have lain with Ares?"

She laughed and stroked his body. "I will take the pleasure I need from whom I need and when I need. Take me to your bed, Warrior Hal. Acquaint yourself with the taste of my flesh. Make me quiver with delight and gasp breathlessly in this thick air. For a short time let us both forget the horrors of war and live for a few seconds in the arms of our dreams."


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY

Green Lantern's departure with Aphrodite filled the group with dismay. So quickly had they lost one of their number. And so easily too.

"Ares will use our weaknesses against us. We must remember what Wonder Woman said," said Black Star.

"And he's effectively nullified Green Lantern," said Fanci sadly. So much for the famous will-power that Hal Jordan was reputed to have.

It was Superman who cheered the other two, saying, "We'll overcome whatever challenges we need to."

As he spoke, Black Star and Fanci felt themselves being pulled away with a terrible force.

So strong, so powerful was the pull that Fanci blacked out for some time.

When she opened her eyes, she was in a place that was very stark, cold and silent. Smoke swirled in delicate patterns all around her in the darkness. Her breath came in white clouds that mixed briefly with the smoke and dust in the air before it dissipated quickly. Flames flickered nearby, giving the scene an orange glow. She felt the heat from the flames on her skin, but they gave her no warmth. Her bones ached and her skin was sore.

There were other movements in the shadows now.

Dark shapes, ungainly and misshapen, had begun moving towards her with relentless purpose. They were the minions of Ares – the Death-raiders, to face and to destroy.

They wielded axes, waving them grotesquely around their heads. One came closer to her.

She felt the glimmer of its heat and instantly switched her optic screen to infrared. Now she could see it more clearly, a large bipedal form, bigger on one side than the other. It held a double bladed axe in its larger hand. She activated her body suit, her tactical systems locked on to it even as it saw her, her head-up display framed it in green as it strode towards her, its axe raised.

Information spilled across her field of vision; giving her distance, elevation, speed, mass. Even as the data became apparent in her mind, her armour and weaponry was already changing….

The planet had once been beautiful. Even in the darkness, the elegant and almost delicate form and construction of its architecture was quite clear. Every building had a different decorative style, with different materials and shapes used in the construction, giving each building a distinctive look. Embellished with windows, balconies, columns, all colors available were to be seen. But one aspect was common to all. The buildings were tall and imposing, towering high above ground level, the tops of some of the buildings covered by cloud formations. But appearances were deceiving. The city had been over a thousand years old. Now it burned.

Into this scene of sadness and despair had fallen Black Star.

As he watched, the tall and elegant buildings toppled. One by one they had been hit by the laser blasts fired from below and they came crashing down in a grinding of metal and a burst of glass and masonry. Some struck other buildings as they fell, causing them to shake and crumble, until they, too, gave way, dropping in a shroud of black smoke and debris. Many of the buildings that still stood were burning and fire spread throughout the city, the black smoke billowed up overhead, turning the skies grey.

Black Star activated his Geo-Sat locator. He was on an unnamed, unidentified planet, in the midst of a raging war. The planet had been attacked by the Death-raiders, Ares' elite guard. So he was to fight them, then?

They ran among the dead and dying, alien, asymmetrical forms clad in black armour, like giant insects from a child's nightmare. They wielded axes, dispatching without mercy any of the occupants of the planet that they found alive.

Black Star steadied himself and unleashed his omega beams. The first beam of orange light pinpointed one of the Death-raiders as it raised its weapon, and it burst into fragments.

A yellow beam quickly followed and another Death-raider was blown to a fiery death. Black Star looked to the origin of the beam and saw a grinning Fanci giving him a thumbs-up. As he flew across to join her, he let another omega beam loose at the Death-raiders.

In an instant, all the Death-raiders had unshouldered their weapons and began to return fire at Black Star. They continued to fire at anything that moved, but always the orange beams picked them out, bursting them and splashing the metal with their blood. Black blood.

In the darkness and the smoke of the confines of the wreckage around him, confusion reigned supreme. Beams of light criss-crossed as Black Star and Fanci flew from point to point, and as each side fired at the other. Weapons were wielded and frail bodies were smashed, the blood of the victims making the footing treacherous.

Black Star and Fanci compared notes. She had dispatched the few Death-raiders who had attacked her, and then used her radar to locate Black Star. As they discussed the best methods of dispatching the rest of Ares' troops, the Death-raiders attacked.

At such close quarters, laser sabers proved more efficient than rifles.

Fanci activated the weapons that she held in each hand, rotating them as she jumped in their midst. Flashing blades, like rotating circular saws, sliced through limbs.

Nimbly Black Star jumped from the dark and sliced at backs. The Death-raiders were cut down, sliced in half, mutilated.

The blood mixed and splashed as the warriors of two different races fought fiercely, each side uncaring of their own survival, each bent only on the other's destruction.

Until finally, it was over.


	23. Chapter 23

Superman didn't have a nano-second to think about the strange disappearance of Fanci Webb and Black Star.

The room shifted and shook, changing shape and colour. Superman felt himself being pulled along by an unassailable force. Much as he tried to fight it, he found himself unable to do much more than raise his head.

Colors and shapes changed as he was pulled past them, until he landed with a soft _whoosh_ on what felt like a bed. Disoriented for a moment, Superman used his super-vision to scan the area he was in. At first he registered the room, gleaming white crystalline walls, strangely reminiscent of glass, there was a brightly lit panel that took up most of one wall, with moving pictures. Surprised that he couldn't see more, Superman raised himself on one arm.

"Kal, it's past sunrise. Are you still in bed?" came a familiar woman's voice.

Superman frowned. Surely, he'd heard that voice before?

"Kal," the voice was closer now. "Kal, I'm coming in…"

A slender woman, glorious in midnight black and silver stood framed in the doorway of the room.

Stunned, Superman recognized her instantly. How could he not? He'd seen holographic images of her since he was a teenager and discovered the crystalline recording his Kryptonian parents had made for him.

"Lara? Mother?" was his whispered response.

"Kal, stop behaving as if I've never seen a male form before. I've seen you naked since you were placed in my arms, after being withdrawn from the gestation chamber. And in any case, you're body is much like that of your sire's." the woman continued dispassionately.

Superman looked down at his body now and gasped. He was nude! And in front of his mother! He began grasping for a bed cover to wrap himself in.

A bubbling laugh told him Lara was amused. "Kal," she said, "you've forgotten how to dress." She pressed a button on the wall next to her, and the room was filled with blue and red lights for brief seconds. When the lights had gone, Superman was dressed in a blue and red body suit much like his own uniform, but without a cape.

Relieved, but still unsettled, he walked up to Lara and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Where am I?" he asked her.

Lara's fingers went up to the spot where her eldest son's lips had touched her cheek. "On Krypton, of course. Jor-El and I haven't seen you for a long time now. Ever since you joined the Inter-stellar Science Mission."

"I did?"

"Kal, why are you behaving so lost? You'll feel better when you meet the rest of the family."

"The rest of the family?"

"Your brothers – Kor, Zal and Nom. And of course, the twins – Zara and Tara will be there. It's a victory celebration for you. We can do no less, after you've been elected to the Senate as President. Thanks to your efforts, Krypton has been able to prevent the expected explosion of our planet."

"Krypton hasn't exploded?"

"Kal, you're obviously suffering from space-lag. I suggest a hot lava spa treatment before we meet for lunch. It works wonders on the body and the mind. You'll soon be back in Kryptonian cycles again."

After his mother left the room, Superman walked to the brightly lit LED screen that he had seen. Playing with the controls, he realized it was voice commanded. So he activated it, demanding to see the history of the place he was in, the location….

It was a long time before Superman allowed himself to think again. He was on Planet Krypton. And had obviously grown up on the Planet, which had never exploded. His cousin Kara, was Commander Kara and was an acknowledged strategist in Kryptonian Inter-planetary affairs. He was a Senator, now elected President of the Council of Elders. He was a much respected man on Krypton. And he had a family – a full family. Not just parents, but brothers and sisters.

From his vantage point in Tartarus, Zeus looked into the oracular pond and watched the scenes as they played out. Ares's machinations seemed to be succeeding. Diana's champions would fail. And then all of Olympus as they knew it was doomed.

"They seem to lack the wisdom of their choices, don't they?" asked Athena as she came to stand by his side.

"My hands are bound. Ares has made sure of that. And you, who also holds the war portfolio are imprisoned here with me. Diana has made that pact with Ares, I fear that she will take Otrera's place besides Ares. Her two young heroes have been overcome. One by Aphrodite, the other by Morpheus."

"There are still the other two."

"They fight the Death-raiders valiantly. But they need help or they will succumb."

Athena smiled. Not for nothing was she worshipped for her wisdom.

"If I can get you out of Tartarus and back in Olympus, what will you reward me with?" she asked now.

"If you can do the impossible, stop Ares, restore us all to Olympus, you may have whatever you desire."

"Give me dominion over the heavens and the earths – give me dominion over Olympus."

"My throne is yours, should we be set free. Only leave Ares to me," responded Zeus.

"We have a pact, then."

So saying, Athena stepped away.

On the far-off distant planet, a space bubble, illuminated by a green light, landed unseen by the warriors. Green Lantern stepped out, ready for battle. Using his power ring, he quickly located Fanci Webb and Black Star.

They were lying amidst the bodies of fallen Death-raiders, unconscious. He wanted to make sure that Fanci was all right, but forced himself to create a double stretcher to lift them both into the bubble.

Wishing that he had a womb-pod for both of them, he used his power ring to check for vital signs, then sighed in relief. They were merely sleeping. Exhaustion had worn them out. By the time he returned to Earth, they would be fine.

He used the time to think about Ahprodite. Was she still in bed with the Green Lantern created by his power ring? He hoped his duplicate was giving her a good time, wearying her out. He had had to think quickly, to avoid being trapped by Aphrodite. It had been good for his ego to feel wanted by a Goddess. But too much was at stake. He had Fanci and Black Star safe now.

Next was Superman.


	24. Chapter 24

Superman watched the family scene bemusedly. His siblings obviously loved him. His sisters sat on either side of him, as they chattered incessantly. Lara, his mother, served him his 'favorite' food, grilled Lanzanian bird meat with sautéed rinions and piped tubers.

Tasting it, Superman thought that it was similar to the meal Ma Kent often prepared for him, back on the Kent farm, grilled turkey with sautéed onions and mashed potatoes.

He felt very much at home here on Krypton.

He had no super-powers here under the red sun, but moving over the planet was an easy task. It was only a few weeks ago that his brother Kor-El had commandeered a mini-rocket and together, they had zoomed across the surface of the planet.

Superman had asked what he had hoped were subtle questions as they went along, trying to learn as much as he could without revealing that what he knew of Krypton was unlike what he was seeing now.

Last evening's meeting with the Council had gone well. His plans had been unanimously accepted. His father Jor-El had been full of praise after the meeting. Superman's heart had warmed. He had unconsciously yearned to hear his natural father's praise. The Kents had always been supportive, but the warmth and affection and pride his natural parents displayed in his abilities and accomplishments was something else.

He listened now to the banter of his siblings around him. Zal and Nom were arguing about whether they were ready to deposit their life essence in the birthing matrices. Their mother, Lara, frowned at them, before saying, "You need to first pass the Kryptonian citizenship test of maturity before you do that. Only Kal and Kor may make their deposits."

"And so can we," chorused Superman's twin sisters.

"I know that you've already done so," smiled Lara at them.

As Superman joined in the conversation, he realized that he was able to speak Kryptonian for the first time, freely. His heart swelled. He was home.

Later that evening as Superman retired to his bed chamber to rest, he realized he was not alone. Green Lantern stood against the wall, arms folded across his chest, looking at him with concern.

"Hello, Hal."

"Superman. You need to return with me," responded Green Lantern.

"Need? So says the man who deserted us to enjoy Ahprodite's charms."

"I did not. I simply created a power ring double of me to make love to her, while I searched the Universe and Time for all of you."

Green Lantern remembered how he had watched Aphrodite open her robe, baring her body, making him want her despite all the reasons to stay away. Sparks of heat had worked through him as Aphrodite had threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head down closer to kiss him, her tongue moving in time with his, her breasts pressed against his chest. She had moaned softly against his mouth and all he had thought of then was how good she felt in his hands, just the way a woman should feel, soft warmth instead of sharp bones and harsh angles.

But even as this sudden and extreme passion for her threatened to take over everything else, he knew he needed to think quickly to escape from Aphrodite's too willing hands and ways.

How he'd fought against the seduction of taking just one more kiss. He'd had to use all his will power to prevent himself flinging her onto the bed, sliding against her, into her, until they were both completely lost in each other's skin, and sweat, and sex, the nightmare of Timor forgotten for a few blessed seconds.

He had quickly made an excuse to use the bathroom, then willed himself to create a power ring duplicate to take his place with Aphrodite.

Now, Green Lantern quickly brought Superman up to date. He told him about Fanci Webb and Black Star and the battle they had fought. Looking at Superman he said, "You do know that this is all an illusion? You need only to allow yourself to feel and overcome the feelings this new scenario has created within you. And only you can make the choice to return to reality."

Superman felt cheated. Who was Green Lantern to make him choose? He wanted to be with his parents and family. Why, tomorrow, he and his brothers were going to the bar at the end of the universe. Kor had promised Kal that if he went incognito, without his President's cavalcade, there would be some pretty Venusians to pick up. Superman was looking forward to that.

Green Lantern watched the play of emotion on Superman's face. Morpheus was good at his job, he decided. Then, his face lit up. He willed his power ring to show a visual of Ares and Diana. As the power ring threw up a screen, the images flashed on it.

The scene inside was not what he'd expected.

Ares was standing close to Diana, who had turned away from him. As Superman and Green Lantern watched, Ares reached out, touching her hair where it lay loose about her shoulders. He caught up a handful of the soft strands and tugged her closer, not cruelly but hard enough so that she didn't fight him.

"Let me go," said Diana icily.

"Why? Aren't you curious? I'm a much better lover than anyone you know. You might enjoy having a skilled lover in your bed for a change."

Diana's first impulse was to deny it. But this was Ares, and she needed to use caution in her dealings with him. She contented herself with "If I wanted another man I wouldn't choose a lustful liar who thinks only of war."

He ignored her; his voice dropped seductively. "Diana, soon, you will be mine. You deserve the best."

"And you are the best?" she mocked.

"Oh yes. I am."

His arrogance knew no bounds and he pulled her closer to his body so that they were clasped in each other's arms. Ares brushed the pulse in her throat with his fingers, pausing briefly, before running his hand downward over the metallic bodice.

"Let me show you what you're missing," he rasped.

But Ares had misjudged Diana of Themyscira.

The flat of her hand struck his cheek, hard enough to sting. Using the element of surprise, she flipped him over her head so that he landed on his back behind her.

Just for a moment Green Lantern forgot where he was or why he was there. And then he heard the shocked silence behind him turn into a roar as Superman stood before him in full uniform, his eyes glowing red.

The room around them changed rapidly, too rapidly, for them to note. The scene vanished from his power ring as Green Lantern and Superman were pulled into a vortex of churning objects, blinking colours and flashing lights.

On the island of Themyscira, Queen Mother Hippolyta was playing with her grand-children. Hugging them to her, kissing them, till little Aric got annoyed. "Respected mother," he said, "stop kissing me. Kissing is for girls."

"Ah, child, I don't know how long we have together."

"Playing with infants is not what an Amazon, much less an Amazon queen does," came a new voice.

Hippolyta looked up to see Hermes standing before her. Surprised, she rose from her seat in the gardens of her palace, and gestured to the children's nursemaids, who ushered them away quickly.

"Athena sends me to you, Queen Hippolyta. Or should I say, γιαγιά Hippolyta? No matter, I need the warrior Hippolyta, who once fought and overcame the enemies of the gods."

Hippolyta sighed. "What does Athena command of me?"

"Athena sends you a message. Your daughter has prevailed. The mists of time recede, as the Universe restores itself. Athena now rules Olympus, with Zeus as her Counselor. Already Chronos has been chained by Hephaestus in Tartarus, with Chaos and Aether. And the Aeropagus has cosigned Ares there too. Your guardswomen must guard well the doors of Tartarus."

Hippolyta smiled. "I hear and I obey."


	25. Chapter 25

The scene in the JLA Council Room was reflective of the mood of its occupants. Cautious optimism and elation mixed as the group listened to Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Superman brief them.

With each of them overcoming the challenges ahead of them, the pact between Diana and Ares had been honored. It was the Fates, spinning eternally, that had allowed the next few events to happen. Zeus and the rest of the gods had been sprung free from Tartarus. Ares and Chronos had been consigned to Tartarus. The Timor, spawned by Chaos and Aether had ceased to exist, vanishing as suddenly as they had appeared. The Oans had removed the Green Lanterns who had succumbed to temptation and were working on refining the rest of the Corps. Fanci's would-be assassin was one such rogue Green Lantern, now facing trial for his crimes.

The cities that had been attacked / affected were restored to their original state by the grace of Athena. It had been Superman's request that the collective consciousness of the human beings be altered so that the trauma that people had lived through would be eliminated. Hermes had done the same for all the living beings of the Universe, not just Earth. It would take time for peace to return to some sectors of the Universe but it was a first step.

Ares' plan had been many years in the planning and sly implementation. So clever had been the plan to avoid detection that Ares had first engineered the dissolution of the Turix Confederation and established the Timor, and the infiltration of the Green Lantern Corps in every sector, across time. Only then did Ares launch his attack on Zeus and the rest, capturing them, at about the time that Wonder Woman, Superman and the rest had landed in the future.

Athena was now ruler of Olympus, with Zeus by her side as Counselor. The gods had learned their lesson as well. Athena's first act was to ensure that the gates of Tartarus were guarded by the Amazons. Hermes had been dispatched to heal the wounds left by the rift in the weft of Time. Aphrodite, well, Aphrodite was Aphrodite. Her role in Ares' scheme had been condoned by Athena, who was wise enough to know that Love was much needed in the healing process.

A grateful Athena had met each of the four heroes separately, leaving no doubt of her willingness to grant any desire or request that they might have. Each had spoken separately but none had shared with the others the result of the conversation.

J'onn looked around the room and remembered the very different images of the Leaguers that he had seen and wisely decided not to talk about it.

Each of the heroes whose lives had changed briefly, thought about the alternate lives they would have lived had events played out differently in their lives – they all retained some idea of what might have been.

And things were back to normal.

Or so it seemed.

There was still some unfinished business to be taken care of.

Superman met Wonder Woman in her private suite of rooms at Themyscira House. She had made him a promise and he was going to hold her to it.

"Diana," he murmured as soon as he saw her. "Diana."

Then unable to stop himself, he pulled her towards him. He crushed her mouth with his, ravaged it, without any of the warm and stirring tenderness he'd shown her be fore. His body pressed unrelentingly against hers so that the pounding of his heart seemed to ram inside her.

Diana brought her hands up with some idea of... with no idea at all. And they fell limply to her sides again.

Superman raised his head and drew a ragged breath. "Do you know how I felt when you walked away with Ares? Something snapped inside of me when I saw his hands on you."

Diana looked back at him, her clear blue eyes, deep warm pools of understanding.

"Yes," he continued as he gently held her close to him, inhaling her scent. "I was angry over that, and furious with myself, as well, for not being able to protect you better."

"Kal," she said gently, "Kal, you can't think that you have to protect me all the time. I was raised a warrior, I **am** the best of the Amazons, I can protect myself."

"I'm not thinking that you need protection. I'm thinking that you need to be protected for me. I love you, Diana. I always have. I'm tired of waiting for the perfect moment to say it."

The color rose in Diana's cheeks, prettily pink. "Okay," she said, "Okay."

A slow trickle of liquid warmth inside her quickly be came a fast flood as she put her arms around him. "Okay, Kal," she said, nestling closer to him, fitting the curves of her body into the hard planes of his.

"Okay? Is that the best you can do?"

"Shh…" She wrapped her arms tighter. "I think I love you."

Ka's deep voice rumbled through his chest, she could hear him say, "think?"

She eased away so their eyes could meet. "I knew for certain when Ares made me choose. When I thought I might never see you again, I was filled with regret that I hadn't told you how I felt."

Kal's grip on her hair gentled until his fingers were stroking through it. He brought his lips to hers, slid them both into a long, sumptuous kiss.

He lifted his head, an inch only, so his face blurred in her vision. "Don't you ever do that to me again. Are we clear on that now?" he demanded.

Words rushed into her throat, babbling words that stuck there as she stared into his hot and glittering eyes. When she could do no more than shake her head, he cap tured her mouth again.

Her ears began to ring, reminding her she was holding her breath. But when she let it out, it sounded like a moan. He swept her into his arms.

Really, she could think of no other way to describe how he plucked her off her feet.

"Sweet Aphrodite," was the best she could manage when he carried her into the bedroom, kicked the door shut be hind them.

Still hugging her, he brushed his lips over hers. "Kiss me back now. I need you."

In all her life, people had said those three words to her often enough.

But no one had said them with the intensity that Kal did.

Knowing how powerful he was, knowing that he was Superman, hearing him acknowledge that he needed her.

The thrill of hearing him say it spurted through her, flooded her heart and gushed into the kiss. She threw her arms around him, shifting her body so it pressed against his with an abandon neither of them had expected.

Rocked, he dug his fingers into her flesh, struggled for about two seconds to maintain some reasonable control. Then he tumbled her back and did just what he wanted to do. He sank his teeth into her.

She rose under him, like a woman riding a wave, and with no thought but the taking, tugging at his uniform, pulling at her own. "I want... I want..."

"So do I." He was breathless now, with muscles quiver ing. There was the taste of her skin, warm and sweet in his mouth, the feel of it, silky smooth, under his hands. And the surprising, delightful enthusiasm of her as she ran her firm hands over him.

She was so deliciously built, and the curves of her body so delightful voluptuous. Her scent was a quiet, very female drift that slowly hazed the senses until it seemed as though he could simply breathe her in. Eager to explore, he let his lips rush down her body, back up to those full lovely breasts.

Back to her warm, willing mouth.

He skimmed his thumbs, whisper light, over the swell of her breasts. And she began to tremble. He bent down to rub his lips over hers as he tugged her uniform away from her body. He used his thumbs again, running them over her nipples until heat balled in her belly.

The tenderness of it had her muscles trembling and her belly doing one long, lazy roll. When he deepened the kiss it was all warmth, and a whole lot of heat.

For one of the first times in her life she stood poised on absolute surrender, with a man in total control of her.

Heart, body, mind.

It terrified her. And it filled her.

He was murmuring something, or perhaps he was shout ing it. There was such a roaring in her head, she couldn't tell. Her system was barraged by a series of long, liquid pulls, of quick, slapping jolts with each sensation rapping so hard into the next it wasn't possible to separate them.

And her body absorbed them greedily, then called for more.

And his, his was so firm and smooth, and hot. Was it any wonder her hands were in such a rush to touch? When she did she could feel the quiver of a muscle, the wild leap of a pulse.

Need. It was need for her.

Then she forgot his need for her own when his fingers slid slickly over her, into her. She could do nothing more than fist her hands in the rumpled bedspread, holding on even as she flew.

His mouth came back to hers, and she opened. Opened everything, so that when he thrust inside her, he entered both heart and body.

He said her name again. It seemed to echo endlessly in his head as he sank into her, into that wet heat. She rose to him, fell away, rose again until the rhythm was like music. He lost himself in it, in her, as the beat became more ur gent, and urgency became desperation. And desperation a brilliant pleasure that swallowed them both whole.

Weak and wrecked, she lay under him. In some dim area of consciousness she was aware of his weight, of the galloping race of his heart, even of the shallow breaths he took. But she was much more aware of the lovely limp stretch of her own body, of the hot river of her own blood that swam under her skin.

A part of her mind continued to huddle in a corner and gape with shock and Amazonian disapproval.

She'd made fran tic, reckless love with her best friend, a man she trusted with all her heart and soul.

A man she loved beyond life.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Retrieved from the memory card of the Instaport of Lois Lane.**_

_**Recorded Interview with Ms. Lana Lang, First Person Account of the Invasion of Earth**_

_**Note to self: Unexplained mystery – no one remembers how it got there, decision taken to save it, not use it. **_

At about ten the next morning I was in that comfortable slumber zone that is somewhere between being fully awake and fully asleep. Neither here nor there. I was vaguely aware of what was happening around me. I could recall that it had been a normal evening last night and I had no reason to leap out of bed. I turned over and listened to the sounds of the city. I had had more than my share of wine and I was a long way from being fully awake.

Suddenly my brain started informing me that there was a lot of commotion outside in the form of children screaming. I woke briefly and started thinking that someone was playing a joke and scaring little children. Idiots. In my morning haze I made out that the sounds were similar to that of children playing and screaming.

As I turned over, something in my mind alerted me to the fact that the screaming children sounded genuine almost making me scared to listen to them. At least my brain told me these were children. After all, why would adults be screaming like that?

My memory drifted back to the unexplained worry I had last night about a fire. I could not smell any burning. But the screaming continued and now I could hear it was mixed with another noise that was a building crescendo. Crunching, grinding, roaring noises – it sounded like the sound track from Star Wars.

Half awake and half asleep I suddenly became very much awake. It would be almost another two days before I would sleep again. 

As I finally awoke completely, I heard screams of 'run, run' and total confusion and panic. Mixed in with the screams was the sound of feet pounding on the street outside my window. I jumped out of bed and pushed open the shutters. I looked down on to the street. Straight away I saw my neighbor with his daughter under his arms. I shouted down to him and he looked at me for a brief second with eyes that will haunt me till the day I die. 

They were the eyes of pure animal fear, eyes of pure animal panic and eyes of utter human disbelief. My throat instantly dried up and I found myself with a tear in the corner of my eye as I stared at the total panic and uncertainty that had gripped my oh-so-certain neighbor as he stood staring at what I was about to see.

People were running and screaming, "run, run." In Spanish, in English, in Swedish, in German, in Danish, in Hebrew, in Russian. I turned from the window to run out of my bedroom and on to the open staircase leading down to the street.

My first thought was that there was a lunatic with a gun or a knife running down the street and randomly hitting out to anyone that got in his way. I expected to see a group of mad psychotic terrorists. I heard loud explosions and unexplained noses. And a few thousand more screams in different languages. A United Nations of fear and panic.

The gas pump on the opposite side of the main square imploded and exploded all in one go as it seemed to be morphing into a lump of contorted wood and corrugated iron, interspersed with the shattering sound of glass.

In that split second I turned my head to the side and watched for maybe one second as there was another explosion and the imploded/exploded remains of a building came surging towards me. The sounds of war, the crunching and folding of buildings and the screams of desperation, the panic of people caught up in this war mesmerized me as I stood there. I was unable to move, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

I instinctively ran back up the stairs towards my apartment. Really, there was nowhere else to run. The sound was deafening and the shrills and panic of fear were all around me. It was the sound of solid buildings being crushed and foundations groaning under the immense forces of war that were most unusual and new to me. As I got to the top of the staircase I saw the couple in the apartment next to me standing outside their door completely frozen and embracing each other.

I was going to die. For the first time in my life I resigned myself to dying. No more tomorrows, no more dreams, no more anything. I stood in my bedroom, tensioned against the walls and prepared myself that any second the blasts would finally sweep my legs from me and I would join the torrent of mangled wood, concrete and glass and thrashing, panic-driven citizens who were still rushing about on the streets.

I have no recollection of what happened in those next few seconds. One second I was braced between the two corridor walls and feeling my grip sliding away as explosions shook the building. The next second I was out on the terrace.

I was overcome with an enormous outpouring of relief, with only one thought running through my head, "I'm alive. I _**am **_alive. I do not believe it." 

"Diana," said Kal lazily. "I missed the nape of your neck." He turned his head so he could nibble a bit on her shoulder. "I'll have to make up for that oversight when I can move again."

It was so nice to be able to run her fingers through his hair, through all those rich, dark curls. He snuck a hand up to stroke her breast.

"I like you out of bed, Diana, but I have to tell you." He bit her earlobe and made her shiver. "I love you in it as well. I'm just going to show you again."

"We have to get up, right now," she began, but his tongue slid down to her breasts. "Well. Well, I guess a few more minutes won't make any difference."

Connor and Cassie flew into Themyscira House. Cassie was keen to meet Diana and talk to her about the recent events.

She'd have walked straight into Diana's suite of rooms, when they entered the apartment block but Connor held her back. "Give me a kiss first."

Cassie pulled his head down to hers, giving him a kiss hard enough to knock the breath out of him, before pushing herself away and walking to Diana's rooms.

She made it halfway across the hallway when she stopped dead.

Holding up a hand, Cassie turned to smile at Connor, her wide, foolish grin making him narrow his eyes.

"Quiet! Don't use your super-vision!" She hissed it out in a whisper, jerked a thumb toward Diana's rooms. "They're in there."

"Who?" Visions of super-villains burst in his brain and he almost made to Diana's door.

Cassie had to leap in front of him to stop him, knocking the wind out of him and herself with the effort.

"Connor, use your super-hearing, not your super-vision."

He heard it then, the quick, strangled cry that could mean only one thing. When dumbfounded curiosity sent him a few steps closer, he caught the unmistakable sounds of a bed shaking.

"Well, Cassie!" Connor dragged a hand through his hair and had to swallow a laugh. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" He whispered it, finding himself grinning back at Cassie. "We can't just stand out here listening to Kal going at it with Diana. It's awkward."

"Yes, awkward." Suppressing a giggle, Cassie all but pressed her ear to the bedroom door. "I think they've got a ways to go yet. Unless Superman's one of those get on, get in, get out, get off sort of guys."

"I don't have any way of knowing. And I'd rather not find out. We'll go up on the roof for a bit."

"Go, Diana!" Cassie murmured as they headed toward the hallway. She managed to hold off the laughter until they were safely in the elevator, heading up.

"Do you think they heard us?"

"I don't think they'd have heard Darkseid himself." Cassie caught her breath and walked out with him to take the steps to the roof.

She walked into the sunlight, dropped into a chair and kicked out her long legs and settled herself down for a long wait.

Connor looked at her peacefully sitting in the terrace garden. "You know its given me some ideas," he said.

Cassie looked at him, her eyes alight with humour. "Its lucky they're at Themyscira House. Its an extension of the island of Themyscira, so its magical and can absorb the shocks. But I don't think the planet can withstand all four of us in action at the same time."


	27. Chapter 27

Hal Jordan was back at the race-track. Saving the world was all very well for Green Lantern, but he needed to keep body and soul together. And he could only do that by showing up for work.

He watched as someone pushed a tire car toward the garage. A few of his fellow crew members were lounging near a pit stall. It was an hour before qualifying so most cars had already passed through tech inspection. Cars were lined up out on pit road in preparation for qualifying.

"Hal?" He turned and saw Fanci standing a few feet away, her long hair loose around her.

"There you are, Agent Fanci," he pretended to grumble because he had to do something.

If he didn't, he'd pull her into his arms. "I've been waiting for you for the better part of an hour."

She stopped just in front of him. She wore her usual official attire – boring, federal issue body suit. It clung to her body, accentuating her curves, making her look soft and feminine and more beautiful and Hal was tempted to take her straight to bed.

"Oh, yeah?" she asked in an exaggerated drawl. "Well, maybe I'll make you wait another hour."

He smiled. "Maybe you should," he said. "They say the longer you wait, the better it is."

"The teleport tube was busy. And besides, I needed to wind up a few things before I came to this time zone for the weekend."

Hal Jordan smiled, one laced with wicked charm. Fanci placed a hand against her stomach as if she might have butterflies there or something.

Her gesture sparked something in the dark depths of Hal's gaze—something hot and wild, sexy and lethal. She knew what he was going to do in the split second before he did it. She knew him so well. And she welcomed it. His beautiful lips came down on hers and she was lost.

Hal's mouth was inexpressibly delicious. Fanci's head fell back as her mind spun out, leaving her dizzy and weak. He held her jaw in his strong hand—guiding her lips with his.

He did not seduce, caress. He took. He demanded. He possessed.

And Fanci's body burst into flame after flame of sensation.

It was as if her body spoke to his in its own ancient language, and neither could control it nor understand it.

Hal deepened the kiss, playing with her tongue, her lips. Her hands crept up to the warm soft fabric of his shirt, then pressed against the planes of his chest. He made a slight sound of encouragement, or passion, as his powerful arm wrapped around her hips and dragged her up against the length of his body.

She could feel him from head to toe, pressed hard against her, imprinting himself, his taste, into her senses.

"Its too long between weekends, damn it all," he growled, breaking away for only a moment.

Fanci stared at him, dazed. She murmured, "By the grace of Athena and Queen Diana, Head of the Inter-planetary Governance Council, I'm lucky to be here at all."

At the end of the mission, it was Hal's request to Athena that she allow him access to Agent Fanci. While Athena had only nodded, it was Queen Diana who had graciously consented to allow The Omega Team to continue operations. The identity that Fanci Webb had assumed while undercover was carefully wiped out. All trace of 'parents', college friends, employment at SMWW was as if it had never been. Agent Fanci was retained as the Time Warden for this sector of time, but she still had her other duties to perform in the 31st century and could only occasionally visit to monitor this time zone.

Each weekend saw Fanci step out of the teleport tube into Hal's arms. And two days later, she stepped out of his arms back into the future. But it was never enough. Each time they met again was explosive and passionate, two people desperate to make up for lost time.

Hal moved his fingers into her hair, fisting his hand in the silky mass. And then once again his mouth took hers, slanting to get a better, sweeter fit, and Fanci ached. Her breasts ached as she pressed against the implacable strength of his chest. Her belly ached, and she pulsed with heat between her legs.

Even now, she barely managed to pull away, saying, "Hal, surely, not here, not on the race-track?"

Lost for a moment, he only stared at her. "Why not, it wont be the first time…"

"But I've grown to like the comfort of a bed."

Turning into Green Lantern, he scooped her up in his arms, and flew the short distance to

his apartment, raining little kisses on her neck all the time.

Fanci barely registered that he had placed her on the bed or that he had pulled off the top half of her uniform. Sensation fed into sensation—his hands roamed from her hips to her shoulders, then around her waist as if memorize the shape of her bottom and to trace the indentation of her spine—until Fanci could hardly tell the difference between the two spots on her own body.

There was only this fire, this need.

He was heavy and hard all over. He crushed her into the mattress, pinning her, stealing the breath from her body. She felt electrified from each point of contact, from the movement of his mouth over her body, from the wall of his chest above her, from the hard muscled thigh that pressed intimately against her own. Her breasts throbbed and she felt herself melt, hot and wet beneath him.

Her body was ready for him—ready and desperate and now and aching from five days of missing him.

He braced himself on his hands, and Fanci fumbled with his body suit, cursing briefly at the tight way the material clung to his body.

She had to put her hands on his skin—to see if she was the only one feverish with this need, to feel the same relentless desire in him.

Stopping his assault for a moment, Hal twisted out of his suit, then tossed it to the floor. And then there was nothing between her breasts and his muscles, hard-packed beneath his tight, smooth flesh. Only her skin against his skin.

The delicious slide of it, the textures and the feel of so much strength so close against her, made her mouth go dry. Her hands trembled as she ran them across the fascinating planes of his chest, tracing old scars, through the dusting of dark hair between his hard pectoral muscles and arrowing down his taut abdomen, the differences between them making her shiver and want.

She throbbed everywhere. She could feel her pulse pound in her head, her heart and between her legs.

Wanting to make him feel the same way, she leaned closer and placed her open mouth on the tight male nipple she'd uncovered. He groaned, and she turned her attention to the other nipple.

"Don't tease me."

With deft, sure hands, he pulled the bottom half of her federal issue suit with ruthless efficiency, lifting her hips as if she weighed no more than one of the down pillows she lay against.

Then he laid his naked body against hers, making Fanci gasp. She felt the crisp hair on his thighs press against her own smoother ones. His hard chest rubbed deliciously against her nipples. She could feel his hardness strain against her softness, making her dizzy with want. Need.

He braced himself on his hands above her, and looked down at her. The frank hunger in his gaze excited her almost more than she could bear.

His mouth curved, but it was less a smile than something purely male and sexual.

She felt wanton. Powerful.

She sent a mental thank-you to Athena just before Hal began to join their bodies together and she lost all thought.


	28. Chapter 28

Later, much later, Diana walked out of her bedroom in to the hallway at Themyscira House.

"Mother!"

"Daughter," Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, caught Diana to her and hugged her hard. "I am so proud of you."

"Mother, What are you doing here? Oh, I've missed you."

"What I'm doing is looking at my daughter. I missed you, too. Just let me look at you." Hippolyta pulled away for a little bit, studied Diana's face. "Is that a glow I see? Happy, are you?"

"I am, yes. Very happy."

"And who has been dallying in my daughter's bed? Do you allow it, have you permitted it or is it force the man uses?" She sighed, pressed her lips to Diana's brow while all the years whizzed by in her head. "Introduce me to him."

"You've met him before, mother, Kal-El, Superman…"

"I met him as the mother of a friend. Now, I wish to meet him as the sharer of my daughter's bed."

Diana sighed. Her mother could be so difficult at times. "I will mother. He shares my bed of my own free will. There is no coercion used."

Hippolyta smiled. "I will meet him and decide."

Diana threw her hands up in the air and gave up the battle. "Make your self comfortable, Mother. We'll meet in a little while."

Hipployta nodded and walked towards the Queen's suite of rooms at Themyscira House. "I'll see you soon, then."

Connor and Cassie had just come down from the roof and were walking towards her rooms when Cassie hissed, "Queen Hippolyta's here!"

"Where?"

"She's in her suite of rooms – the Queen's Suite. You can tell, there's a guard outside the doors. They're only there when she's in residence."

"Does this mean we can't spend the afternoon together?" asked Connor unhappily

"Well, not here, and not now. I'm going to have to meet her too. You might as well stay and say hello, too. I'm going into my bedroom, alone." Cassie made a point of saying the last statement forcefully and walked towards her bedroom.

Connor watched her walk away from him in confusion. He felt a heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder and Kal's deep voice asked him, "What are you doing here, young man?"

Connor turned and looked at the older version of himself. "The same thing you are, getting some private time with my girlfriend."

Kal's blue eyes frosted over for a second, "Speak of Diana more respectfully, or I'll teach you some manners."

Connor was instantly apologetic. "I'm sorry. Its just that I'm tense meeting Hippolyta."

Kal was honest enough to say, "So am I."

"What are we supposed to talk to her about?" Connor asked. "Oh, hi, Your Majesty. We really enjoy sex with your daughters when we're not out saving lives."

"Rao. That's not the conversation I want to have with Diana's mother."

"Oh God. Oh God." Connor wiped his brow.

Kal tried to calm him down, "They're grown women, and she seems like a reasonable woman."

"They're Amazons."

"Indeed, we are," said Diana as she walked up from behind them and watched both men, supermen, blanch. "But we don't castrate men any more, don't worry."

"Diana, that's not funny," said Kal, pulling her close to him, and resting his hand upon her waist. A gesture of possessiveness that Connor didn't miss.

"I couldn't resist. Though Connor has come close to it, once or twice. An Amazon sister protecting her own is not one any man wants to talk to."

Connor whitened even more.

Kal laughed. "She's only teasing you, Con." He bent his head to gently kiss Diana.

Her lips quivered beneath his, then parted. He felt her response, sweet, warm, and clinging. With a groan he crushed her against him, lifting her full off her feet. The pressure of his mouth was no less fierce than before, yet there was a difference.

He kissed her as a lover who knew the effect that his mouth had upon her. Diana was oblivious to everything except the pressure of his mouth on hers.

"Ahem…" Connor reminded them of his presence.

As they broke reluctantly apart, Diana turned to look at Connor, "If you talk about this to anyone, I'll hold good my threat to treat you as an Amazon would!"

"No fear of that," he quickly reassured her.

Kal just laughed out loud.

When Hippolyta joined them in the kitchen thirty minutes later, she noted four things simultaneously. Cassie was flustered. Connor was stiff. Kal was holding Diana. And Diana, herself, was glowing.

It was Diana who broke away from Kal's embrace and walking forward, enveloped her mother in a tight hug with a kiss to each cheek. Cassie was next to welcome her and as Hippolyta drew her into a tighter embrace, her lips brushed against Cassie's ear, whispering, "Daughter, you have been too long away from me."

Then the Queen turned to look at the men standing in front of her. "Young heroes. You are alive because I'm assured my daughters willing share their beds with you."

Diana bit her lip to keep from smiling. Kal and Connor looked like two little school boys caught stealing toffee. Next to her, she felt Cassie shake with suppressed laughter and avoided meeting Cassie's eyes.

Then the Queen held out her hands to both Connor and Kal, saying, "Welcome to the Amazon family. The commitment my daughters made to you will be honored. I will be here for a few days to visit with Diana, Donna and Cassie and will be delighted to get to know you better. And I invite you both to Themyscira."


	29. Chapter 29

Where had the time gone? Lois sat at her dressing-table, regarding her reflection in the mirror. What was she going to do about her relationship with Bruce? How long would she continue this strange relationship that they had, seeking one another only for physical release?

Bruce was a wonderful man to bed, sensitive, unselfish and thorough. But Lois was always left with a nagging feeling that she was nothing more than a moment's diversion to him.

It was probably fortunate that he had been away for much of the last week. Bruce had arrived back from the latest trip only this morning, and after sleeping until lunchtime had spent the afternoon checking the installation of the very sophisticated computer and communications systems that had been installed while he was away. Lois had arrived as his house-guest while he was away, but had yet to meet Bruce.

Rising to her feet, she checked her reflection a last time.

The door of the drawing-room stood just slightly ajar; music was playing—the soft, smoky blues sound of jazz—and the subtle glow of one of the silk-shaded lamps spilled out into the hall.

Lois hesitated, not sure—now that she was here—that she wanted to go through with this after all.

"Why don't you come in?" Bruce's voice held a note of sardonic humour; he couldn't see her, but he must have heard her come downstairs.

She pushed the door open a little further. He was lounging in one of the big, comfortable sofas, his long legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle, a tall glass of clear water in his hand. Across the room, those deep-set blue eyes regarded her with faintly mocking amusement.

"Good evening," he greeted her cordially. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Having trouble sleeping?"

"A little," Lois conceded, the tension that was knotting inside her betrayed in her voice.

"Why don't you get yourself a drink?" he invited. "It might help."

Lois shrugged her slim shoulders and crossed the room to the drinks-cabinet, which stood open. She slanted him a glittering glance from beneath her lashes. "You know we can't continue a relationship like this." she responded tautly. "It's time to take a decision."

"Is that so?" was his cool retort, watching her over the rim of his tumbler as he downed a huge sip of water. "Funny—there've been times I've received the distinct impression that you quite enjoy it."

Lois had poured herself a careful single measure of cognac, but on second thoughts topped it up to what must have been at least a triple—tonight she needed a little artificial support for her courage.

"Did you?" she ground out, moving to the sofa opposite him and tucking her feet up beneath her. "That doesn't surprise me. You're a wonderful lover, Bruce and very expert in arousing a woman."

This time Bruce's laughter held genuine amusement. "Are you trying to tell me that you haven't enjoyed our...encounters?" he challenged provocatively. "Forgive me, but that's pushing my credulity a little too far."

She could feel the warmth of a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Oh, I won't deny that on a certain, purely physical level... But it's about as meaningful as eating a strawberry sundae—a few minutes' pleasure, but no real satisfaction."

He lifted one dark eyebrow in quizzical amusement. "An interesting simile. But then you've barely tasted the ice-cream yet. Wait till you've tried the fruit—you might find its sweetness positively addictive."

She gave him a coolly level look. "I doubt it. This is going to be no more than a business transaction. That's the way you wanted it, isn't it?"

"More or less," he concurred, a faintly grim smile curving that hard and beautiful mouth.

"Good." She tipped back her glass, the cognac hitting the back of her throat like fire as she drained it in one gulp. "Then there doesn't seem to be much point in prolonging the inevitable? Let's agree to go our separate ways."

She rose to her feet a little unsteadily. The music was soft and sensuous, a husky tenor saxophone, and she let its languorous notes seep into her, mingling with the hot alcohol in her bloodstream to drug her mind. Perhaps, one more time…

Bruce hadn't spoken; he was lounging back in the sofa, totally relaxed, waiting silently to see what she would do next. Slowly—very slowly, her body swaying with the rhythms of the soft, sweet jazz—she moved towards him, her eyes glittering beneath her lowered lashes. And then, with a boldness she had doubted she could possess, she stepped across his outstretched legs, confronting him with wanton invitation.

She was close enough for him merely to lift his hand to touch her, but he didn't—he took another sip of water, only the glint of his eyes telling her that he was amused by this reversal in the role of seducer. But now that she had started this, some kind of ancient instinct had taken her over, drowning out all trace of inhibition, urging her on.

As she took the glass out of his hand and set it down on the low table beside him he quirked one eyebrow in quizzical inquiry, as if he still half believed that she wouldn't dare finish what she had started. A small smile, born of a certainty that she would, curved her soft mouth, and she moved forward again to kneel straddled across his lap, her fingertips resting lightly against his chest.

She could smooth the fine cotton of his shirt aside, feel the thrill of touching him, of sliding her palms over the warm, hair-roughened contours...

With a low, hungry moan she leaned forward, bending her head to press her parted lips against the hard line of his collar-bone, breathing deeply of the subtle musky scent of his skin. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, strong and steady, but when she slanted a swift glance up at him she saw that he had closed his eyes, and knew that he wasn't entirely indifferent to what she was doing.

He let her kiss him, let her probe her tongue into the corners of his lips, let her coax her way in to challenge his own to battle. And then abruptly he took control, one hand tangling in her hair to hold her captive, the other sliding down over the smooth curves of her body.

Now he was kissing her with a fierce demand, his tongue plundering deep into the sweet, defenseless valley of her mouth, taking all that she had offered and more, taking her down to the carpeted floor.

She couldn't think any more. She was melting in a warm, honeyed tide of response, drowning in it, her body moving beneath his in a slow, languorous, erotic rhythm as the sweet aching rapture coiled inside her, her blood heating to a fever that was making her dizzy and delirious, until she heard her own voice sobbing in agonized need, and her body arched to meet the urgent thrust of his as he pounded into her, hard and fast.

The pure, primitive pleasure had taken hold of her, sweeping away any hint of restraint. They were well-matched—her fingernails digging into his back as his teeth raked her smooth shoulder, their bodies locked together, slipping over the edge, collapsing against each other in the quiet, elegant drawing-room as the last haunting notes of the saxophone died away.

But a sliver of sanity returned to Lois even as Bruce's assault on her senses died down, allowing coherent thought again. She knew that all Bruce wanted was her body. She had to keep him wanting her—until, maybe one day, the wanting could grow into something more...

Except that it wouldn't, she reminded herself honestly—he wasn't looking for a marriage of domestic bliss.

Bruce Wayne wanted her for one thing only—he had made that perfectly clear.

And Lois decided in that instant it would have to do. This physical attraction she felt for him was like a drug to her senses. She would play it out till the end.

Superman was beginning to regret that he had accepted Connor's invitation to train with him. How could he have known that Connor would be training on Themyscira. He hoped that Diana would be there. Now that her mother had approved their relationship, he saw no reason not to kiss her at every opportunity he got. No, do more than kiss her...if he got her alone, he would lick her deliciously in all the places she loved his tongue to roam...

Superman blinked, his composure thrown. Great Rao! What had Connor said to him? How could he have stopped paying attention?

Connor was smiling at him, "I fear I'm a bit nervous."

"Why?" asked Superman.

"I have never faced the Amazons before."

"The Amazons?" All of them? On Themyscira? Disquiet tingled at the base of his skull. How in Rao's name had he agreed to this? Did Connor know that the one of the rules of training was the abdication of non-mortal powers? Super powers were not allowed. Just skill and strength and stamina. That was the Warrior Code that the Amazons lived by.

He was beginning to suspect there were details about this training session that Connor had omitted, details that were going to make his life even more complicated by the time he was done.

"I have" Superman said now. "They are a formidable lot. Well trained, they give no quarter. They expect that one does not use super-powers and we will not use ours."

The younger man's eyes twinkled. "How will they stop us?"

"By rendering us helpless through the use of a magic arena in which the training will take place. And we will use all manners of weapons. The weaponry will be harmless for it will shatter on impact."

"I hope you're good with a sword," Superman called over his shoulder, grinning, as he flew towards Themyscira.

Connor smiled back grimly. Good with a sword? What had he let himself in for?

Kal stood in the middle of Themyscira's enormous practice field with his arms crossed self-consciously over his chest. Without the blue and red body suit that he wore as Superman, he was happy to be simply Kal. And though he felt a little self-conscious in these practice clothes, with just a loin cloth, bare-chested, he was also a little proud of his physique. And glad. Glad that he had spent many long years working out with Kryptonite machinery and developing bulges where there should be bulges.

He'd drawn the glances of many women in his lifetime as Superman, but none to match the scrutiny to which he was now subjected. Connor watched from the perimeter of the field, garbed similarly. Kal was to be the first to spar.

Around Kal were gathered all the premier Amazon guards – those of Themysciran origin and of the Bana-Mighdal, too. These were the women that Diana called sister. Among them stood Cassie and Donna. Of Queen Hippolyta and her eldest daughter, there was no sign.

In front of him stood Phillipus, the Queen's General, and Artemis, leader of the Bana. Kal had met her before. She was reputed to be a fierce warrior who gave no quarter to anyone, least of all to any man. She was beautiful, with her emerald eyes, wild tresses, and generous breasts. Were it not for the armor and the menacing swords buckled about her hips, not to mention the lover she surely had waiting somewhere, she might have been dangerously tempting to any man. But not to him, he thought. Her appeal faded next to Diana's.

At the moment, however, all he could think about was the fact she was circling him like a stable master shopping for a horse, narrowing her eyes at his chest, staring at his legs, nodding in satisfaction, clucking her tongue in disfavor. He half expected her to pry open his mouth and take a good look at his teeth.

"So you are Diana's friend and battle partner?" she asked, stopping in front of him and crossing her arms in challenge.

"Yes"

"And do you think you can protect her?"

"Protect her?"

"Can you fight?"

He stifled a smile. He'd been Superman for a long time. Of course he could fight. "If need be."

Then in one fluid movement, Artemis drew her sword and faced him. "Prove it."

His arms fell out of their fold. Surely she wasn't serious. He furrowed his brow. Maybe it was a trick.

"Let's see what you've got," she urged.

Kal glanced toward the spectators. Not one of them looked surprised by Artemis's challenge.

"Artemis, I don't think..."

"Come on, fight me" She poked his chest with the point of her sword.

He retreated a step. Rao's wisdom! She was serious.

"With all due respect, Artemis, I cannot…"

"Cannot what? Protect Diana? Then you may not court her."

"I don't need your permission to court her. And I'm certain I can protect her, but…"

"Then prove it." Reaching across with her left hand, she tugged another sword from its sheath. "Show me." She handed him the weapon, hilt first.

He took the sword, but refused to wield it. "Artemis, I don't really like weapons, it's not a matter of…"

Her sword slashed toward him so swiftly that it was all he could do to block the blow with his own blade. Reeling in astonishment, he almost missed deflecting her second strike as well. He stepped back, but she followed, her weapon swinging with such unexpected speed that he could scarcely keep it from biting him.

This couldn't be happening, he marveled. He couldn't be sparring with an Artemis. With his super-powers, he was far more powerful than she, though she was surely far more experienced.

"Artemis, stop!"

She jabbed him in the shoulder. "What? No balls?"she taunted.

"Rao's breath! I will not fight with weapons"

"And what if I mean to kill you?"

Her eyes glinted like green fire, and he wondered if she did mean to kill him. If she expected to be killed by him.

But Kal had made a vow, when he had first donned the mantle of Superman. So, praying he was making the right choice, he cast his sword to the ground in surrender.

"Artemis!" came a shout from outside the arena.

Kal glanced away from Artemis's eyes, which had taken on a wicked gleam, and looked toward the source of the outburst.

A vision of beauty was walking across the arena, her white skirts flapping gently in the breeze, providing tantalizing glimpses of unending legs. Her beautiful face was twisted with worry.

"Don't hurt him!" she cried, skidding to a stop beside the other onlookers, some of whom bowed and made way for her.

Artemis called back over her shoulder. "I wasn't going to hurt him." One corner of her lip curved up. "I was only going to maim him."

Diana didn't trust Artemis, not with Kal. She knew her too well. And she certainly was not about to let Artemis slice one hair from Kal's head.

"Nay! Cease! Desist!" Diana moved closer.

"Highness," Phillipus protested, seizing her shoulder, "It is best you stay out of it."

Her patronizing tone tested Diana's good nature. Nonetheless, she managed to smile sweetly at her mother's general as she bit out, "Unhand me at once."

Phillipus' eyes widened in surprise, and she let her go at once.

It was all Diana could to keep her temper in check.

As Diana, drew near, Artemis sighed, her gaze softening, "Sister, I was only jesting with him."


	30. Chapter 30

_Wednesday, May 12, 2010_

_**SCOOP! Diana, Ambassador of Themyscira and Clark Kent SCOOP!**_

_**Cellphone Photographs by Readers of The Daily Planet**_

**The Princess and The Commoner**

Are they a couple? If they are, when did that happen? And if it is true or was true or might be true, how long will they last?

These are the nosy, rude, intrusive, unfair, wildly speculative, and completely titillating lunch-time questions that an ever-widening global mob of gossips has been asking about Clark Kent and the Princess-Ambassador of Themyscira.

It's not the first time news of royalty bedding down with commoners has gone supernova. Readers will recall America's princess of hearts, Grace Kelly who married Prince Rainier to become Princess Grace of Monaco. And closer in our memories are the romps of the royal family of Britain, chiefly the two heart-rendingly handsome Princes, William and Harry, both of whom have girlfriends with common blood.

But what's now being branded the saga of "Clardiana" sets a new, 21st-century benchmark — a sort of perfect publicity storm centered on two different people whom the public is treating as daydream playthings. Its the kind of relationship that keeps whole industries alove – blockbuster movies, romantic novels...Farmer meets Princess, they fall in love, they live happily ever after.

In a world where marriages, divorces, and passing flings are anxiously evaluated as career moves, exactly what is or isn't true about reporter Clark Kent's alleged connection to Princess Diana may never be clear.

For the sake of its very own employee – Clark Kent – Star Reporter, The Daily Planet is hopeful that the relationship works.

Clark Kent sat up right in bed. Had he dreamt that column? Or had it actually been written? He touched his forehead – it had beads of sweat on it. He looked at Diana sleeping peacefully next to him. It was time they decided what to tell the world about their relationship. He didn't want to live through another dream like that again. And he didn't want Diana to face the reality of his dream coming true. Of them being scooped by some nosy gossip column and then the news being broadcasted all over the world. Jeopardizing their relationship, their secret identities, their very way of life.

Diana felt like a cat on top of a stove. She wanted Kal to touch her again. She wanted it more than she wanted to see the sun rise on a bright new day. She reached out for Kal, stretching her arm across the sheet, groping for his body. When she didn't make immediate contact, she woke up fully, leaping from the bed, twirling round, before she flew out of the door, fully dressed as Wonder Woman.

She found Clark in the kitchen reading that morning's edition of The Daily Planet. He had already squeezed fresh orange juice for her and was on his second cup of coffee. "Hi sweetheart," he said as she walked in, "going somewhere? You're all dressed up."

"You were gone when I woke up. I'm too used to waking up with you. If it was an emergency, I wanted to be there."

Clark put down the paper and walked over to where Diana stood. "Thanks...sweetheart," he said softly, and raised her hands to his lips, placing a kiss in the center of each palm.

The brush of his mouth was warm and sweet and set a long slow pulse beating low in her belly. The problem wasn't whether she wanted to make love to him, the problem was how very much she wanted it.

Her belly turned hot and liquid, and she shifted to relieve the pressure between her legs.

He surveyed her out of warm blue eyes. "You look like the cat who got the cream."

"The cream is still waiting." Distantly, she wondered where this confident woman came from. This siren couldn't be the restrained Amazon Princess of Themyscira.

"Does that mean you'll lick away every morsel?" The hint of laughter didn't hide the deep arousal in his voice as he pulled her against his body.

Diana's heart slammed against her ribs. The prospect of licking him all over intensified the throbbing between her legs. "Only if you beg."

His laugh trickled down her backbone like warm sunshine. "You're suddenly very cocksure."

"So are you." Her attention focused on where he held her against his trousers. No mistaking his intent.

His impressive chest rose on a deep breath. "I'll make the pleasure last this time. No faster than a speeding bullet stuff."

Reluctantly she stopped drooling over him and met eyes that held a rueful light. "An admirable ambition," she said, with a coolness she was far from feeling.

"If you look at me like that, it's an ambition fated for failure."

How she enjoyed this subtle push and pull of wits between them. She ran a searching finger down his chest. "You're stronger than you think."

"Every man has his breaking point. Even a Superman."

"Hmm, I'd like to see that."

His muscles bunched and firmed as he lifted her up. "I guarantee you'll see it."

A little while later, they found time to take a few breaths and to talk. And to agree on a few things.

So that when Clark went into work a little late and Diana reported at her office in DOMA, they both had decided that Clark Kent and Diana Prince would be seen dating more often in public together. Star Reporter of The Daily Planet and DOMA Agent would be a couple, gradually building up the relationship in the eyes of their everyday friends and acquaintences.

They'd eventually let the world know about Superman and Wonder Woman, too, when the time was right.


	31. Chapter 31

Donna had greeted her with squeals and hugs and exclamations of how beautiful her sister looked, how happy she seemed. "You found just what I hoped for you, big sister," her sister had said. "A nice, quiet love."

Diana smiled now, as she had smiled then, although she hadn't disabused Donna of her assumption. But she somehow doubted that her sister's idea of a "nice, quiet love" included impassioned moments beneath the stars, or stolen hours in the Fortress of Solitude or in Clark's Metropolitan apartment or at Themyscira House…or the night Kal had stripped them both of every scrap of clothing, picked her up so that she could wrap her legs about him, and walked the two of them into a moonlight-streaked stream in the Artic Circle. When she had moaned about it being cold, he had her quickly moaning about something else...

"Clark looks terrified," Donna commented now as she looked toward her soon to be brother-in-law, and both she and Cassie smiled as they watched the bridegroom reach up and run a finger beneath the neck of his blue and red body suit, as if it had suddenly become too tight.

"I can't believe he agreed to have the wedding here on Themyscira," Cassie whispered to Donna.

"He does look quite handsome, if somewhat uncomfortable for a Superman. He really must love our sister very much."

A murmur began to rise among the crowd of Amazons and Superheroes lining both sides of the grassy walk leading to the Great Council Hall on Themyscira. Snippets of conversatin wafted on the gentle Island breeze.

"I hate that she's being married today!" Io blinked back tears and threw her arms around her sister Amazon, Cleta.

Cleta looked stricken. "Don't be sad, Io. I know you'll miss her, but she'll come to visit us often."

"It won't be the same," Io muttered.

Cleta kissed Io on her brow. "It hasn't been the same since she left the Island after being chosen as the Champion of the Gods. It would be unfair to her to grudge her happiness now."

Io could have bitten off her tongue. The last thing she wanted was for Cleta to feel guilty about Io's feelings for the Princess. "Of course, I don't grudge her happiness with a man. I'm just that..."

Io's voice cracked as she broke away from the embrace to look at Cleta. Cleta smiled gently at her, then leaned her head to graze Io's cheeks and eyes with her lips before kissing her full mouth. "We have each other, dearest. I was too proud earlier, I refused to admit how much you mean to me."

She murmured the words as she kissed away Io's tears.

"I can't believe they're getting married," Green Arrow whispered to Black Canary.

"Why not? We did it, even though you seemed to have forgotten that little fact pretty quickly, with two models," was the sharp retort.

"Awww, babe...I didn't even know you then. Will you never let me forget it?"

"No."

"...Batman is a man of many talents, none of which he'd most likely want you to know about, darling. Oh, good Lord, here she comes," said Green Lantern to Agent Fanci Webb.

Holding tight to Green Lantern's hand, Fanci leaned forward, to better see the bride as she approached.

First came the little nymphets, a dozen sweet, cherubic creatures dressed all in white, long pink streamers in their hair. They danced about prettily, tossing pink rose petals in front of them as they approached—all but one obviously shy little beauty who held tightly to her basket with both hands, refusing to be parted from her petals.

That's it, sweetheart. Fanci applauded the child-like creature silently. You hold onto what is yours. Hold on tight. She felt Green Lantern's arms sliding around her waist as he gently pulled her back against him, bending his head to place a kiss on the side of her neck.

And then Diana appeared, riding sidesaddle atop her beloved Damocles, the mare sporting a white satin blanket and white satin ribbons braided into her mane and tail. Damocles held her head high as if proud of her appearance, and seemed to prance, her forelegs lifted high, set down delicately.

Diana, too, was dressed all in white, her glorious coal black curls hanging loose down past her shoulders, a garland of pink roses cunningly wrapping about her head, low on her forehead. A veil attached to the back of the flowery ring and floated in the breeze that seemed to have agreed to appear as if on cue.

Donna and Cassie watched as a thoroughly bemused Superman turned to watch Diana alight from the saddle. Donna was close enough to see that her sister's marvelous grey-blue eyes were awash in tears, and to hear her whispered "I love you", whispered so low that only Superman could hear.

Diana paused for a moment to pay obeisance to the gods and goddesses gathered who graced the wedding with their presence and their blessings. Then, with a gentle kiss from Aphrodite, she was nudged along.

As Superman watched Diana walk towards him, all coherent thought left his head.

The gown clung like skin to her lush curves. The neckline was cut low, outlining full breasts, following her trim waist to her hips, and then flaring out in heavy, shimmering folds to brush the stone flags as she walked. Her entire body seemed to gleam, and then Superman realized that the cloth had been sewn with hundreds of tiny pearls.

Her unbound hair curled about her back and shoulders, and more pearls shone among the riotous black tresses. Her lovely face was aglow with happiness and her eyes were fixed on Superman's. Loving him.

Superman had not known it was possible to feel like this. Now that he did, he vowed that he would never lose what he had.

Diana had reached him. Dazed, he saw now that there were flowers, as well as pearls braided in her hair. A cascade of cream and pink roses. She smelled of spring, a new beginning.

His gaze slid over her white gown, lingering, wanting to undress her slowly, taking his time.

"Can I kiss my bride?" he asked her, a wicked glint back in his blue eyes.

Diana leaned forward and said breathily against his ear, "In a moment, you can kiss your wife."

He smiled. "Even better."

Hiding her own smile, Queen Hippolyta began to say the words that would join them together.


	32. Chapter 32

"Oh, I intend to kiss you," Kal growled, kneeling over Diana.

She was close to ready. It wasn't enough. He wanted her so needy that she cried out for him. He wanted her dripping with desire.

Listening to the uneven tenor of her breath, he set his hands on her ribs and bent to kiss her. She opened immediately, dancing her tongue across his lips and into his mouth. Very slowly, knowing he tormented both of them, he slid his hands up.

Until his fingers cupped her lush breasts. Hunger slammed through him. She made a mewling sound of pleasure against his mouth. Kal raised his head to see where his tanned fingers splayed over her curves. A perfect picture. Her nipples stood out proudly, tantalizing.

He struggled for control against his raging need. He brushed his lips across one rosy peak. Her breath hitched. Delicately, he took her into his mouth, savoring her flavor. Salt. Sweet. Roses. Apples. Diana.

She gave a long guttural moan and arched. He drew harder until she started to shake.

He'd made love to her many times, but this was the first time they were making love as husband and wife. And it sharpened the edge of desire for both of them.

As he tongued the sweet tip of Diana's breast and felt her tremble with delight, he recognized this time was different.

Something about this woman being his wife penetrated more profoundly than mere appetite.

Her beauty stole his breath. Her wild responsiveness excited him. Her love humbled him.

That explained why his heart rose in her presence. Joy was the closest he could come to describing this feeling.

Still kissing her breast, he trailed one hand down the silky plain of her stomach and tangled his fingers in the soft curls. She bucked and smothered a muffled sound.

She vibrated to his touch like a bell.

He dipped between her legs. She was gloriously wet. He stroked her center, feeling the swollen flesh. A deeper pressure and she cried out and tautened. Her fingers clenched in his hair. The sting added to the other dizzying sensations rocketing through him.

Anticipation. Enjoyment of her enjoyment. Need.

He slipped his drenched fingers from between her thighs and gripped her hips. If he didn't taste her there, he'd go mad.

With nipping kisses, he worked his way over her quivering belly to the top of her thighs. "Open for me, Diana."

He'd promised himself he'd linger, tease, give her a wedding night to remember, but his hunger was too sharp. The frantic clutch of her hands on his back, the quick rattle of her breathing, the yielding curve of her body told him she didn't want him to delay.

Kal slipped his hand between her thighs and stroked the hot, wet folds. Her legs fell open, and she made a low, yearning sound.

Carefully, he pushed one finger inside, feeling resistance, the swift clasp of interior muscles.

Another finger.

She moaned and lifted her knees, giving him greater access. He bent to tongue her pebbled nipple and felt her tighten. He sucked hard on the peak and slid his hand free.

Raising his head, he looked into her face as he moved himself over her.

He dragged in a deep breath, paused at the entrance to her body, then slowly, gently pushed into her. Her hips rose, and her fingers curled into his naked back, her nails digging in. She inhaled on a broken sob. He paused, struggling for breath.

She fit as if made for him, made to be his wife.

"Don't stop." Her nails scored deeper, the sting feeding his arousal. Only her fingers could mark his invlunerable skin.

When her hips tilted in unmistakable encouragement he slowly, luxuriously withdrew. With a smoothness born of practice, he plunged back inside.

She opened as sweetly as a flower in morning light. Her hands feverishly stroked his back, then slid down to clasp his buttocks, kneading in a silent invitation to continue.

"Yes," she hissed in surrender.

For a glorious interval, they moved together. His awareness shrank to the searing hold of her body, tension and release, the way her breathing echoed what he did.

Even so, he knew the exact moment she edged toward her peak. "Kal!" she cried as her muscles tightened, milking him...


	33. Chapter 33

_Monday, February 14, 2011_

_**Valentine's Day Special **_

_**Interview with Agent Diana Prince – DOMA and Clark Kent – Star Reporter**_

_**By Lois Lane, Features Editor, The Daily Planet**_

_**Photographs by Jimmy Olsen, Photographer, The Daily Planet**_

Project L.O.V.E.

They seem the most unlikely couple. He is quiet and likes to keep to himself, he's scared of his own shadow. She is full of life and bubbly, with a never say die attitude, an icon for women everywhere.

Diana Prince, Agent for DOMA, has never let gloss conceal her natural exuberance. Making public appearances with élan, she is simply herself, wondrously every woman's ideal, every man's dream

Clark Kent, Staff Reporter for The Daily Planet is a quiet, no nonsense type of guy. The type you should never let get away. The one to opt for, the substantial over the shallow.

Diana and Clark are equally unconventional in their personal equation. Refusing to convince the world about how great the going is between them, the duo care little about making public appearances for the flashbulbs. Confident about belonging to each other, they consider space a pre-requisite for growth.

The romance between the grey-eyed Agent and the deep-as-still-waters Clark hit off, reportedly, when the reporter interviewed her about her role at DOMA.

Unconventional, even while they met each other (dating is too plebian a word to use for their relationship), Clark recalls, "We never resorted to the usual 'I Love you,' routine. A proposal never happened. We grew with each other. Marriage was never discussed, but it was always imminent.'

He continues, "Diana is vivacious, vital, rejuvenating, while I'm an introvert. She is all that I would ever want to see in a woman. In our differences, we complete and complement each other," says the proud husband.

Diana echoes Clarks's sentiments, "Living with Clark is like living with your best friend. There are no barriers between us. I love sharing my experiences and joys with him. Marriage has been an enriching experience," says the Agent about the companionship they share.

Who would have ever thought that it would be love at first sight for Clark Kent, farm-boy from Smallville, and Diana Prince, Agent for the Department of Meta-Human Affairs?

The moral of the story – Never judge a book by its cover!

Diana put down the paper and frowned at Clark over the breakfast tray set up in their bedchamber at Themyscira House. "Lois Lane had no call to describe you so badly, sweetheart. I'm going to sit her down and have a talk with her."

Clark Kent smiled at his wife. "I don't really care. It's better for my image to be seen as a sparrow and you as a hawk! A Lady Hawk."

"Little do they know that you are actually the Eagle who inspires us all."

Before she could say anything more, he reached out and ran his finger across the swell of her breasts beneath her nightgown, and then all sensible thought left her as physical sensation took over. He hooked his finger over the neckline of her gown and drew her toward him, slowly, inexorably.

He cupped her breasts, pushing them up, and bent to plant openmouthed kisses on them through the cloth. She trembled as he unfastened the nightgown and slipped it from her shoulders, exposing her upper body to the cool morning air drifting in the window. Her nipples peaked and hardened, and he bent and took one of them in his mouth. She caught her breath, stroking his hair with her fingers, drawing him closer.

Then his fingers were sliding up her thigh smoothly, and then he cupped his hand between her legs, stroking her slickness, brushing back and forth against her swollen bud while she clung to his shoulders, trembling and trying not to scream with pleasure.

He watched the sensations on her face, gentling his touch, angling his hand, fingers moving up inside her, filling her.

The newspaper fell to the ground as she wrapped her arms about his neck and clung as her knees buckled, shamelessly opening her legs to the delights he offered. His eyes glittered red-hot.

"Tell me you want me." It was an order.

"I want you," she answered, her mouth seeking his.

He broke the kiss with a quick laugh and picked her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed.

The mattress dipped beneath them.

Diana's hands ran over him, feeling the velvet steel of his body. She made a sound in her throat, a purr of anticipation, and his warm flesh quivered in her hand. She wanted to pleasure him as he pleasured her. She bent close, breathing in his musky scent, and licked the tip like a cat lapping cream. She licked again, and made a murmur of pleasure. He cupped her head in his hands, and she opened her mouth and took him inside.

He jerked and groaned, as if she'd hurt him, but when she made as if to stop, he said, "Ah, Diana…" in such a husky, pleasure-filled voice, she ached with desire.

Gently he lifted her head and kissed her deeply. He lowered her backward onto the bed, his body following hers down, and entered her with a single deep thrust. Her body spasmed, clenching around him, and he stilled, letting her settle, before he moved again. He was drawing out the pleasure, building the sensations, making her wait.

She could feel his naked body sliding against hers, hard where she was soft, rough where she was smooth. Her breasts ached, her nipples incredibly sensitive, and when he clasped the globes of her bottom and tilted her slightly, so that he could go deeper still inside her, she knew she would feel this way forever.

"Not a sparrow, now?" he whispered in her ear.

"Perhaps, horse would be better than eagle," she whispered back.

The clenching spasms took her then, the pleasure so great she lost awareness of everything but her own body and his. She felt him thrust once, twice, and then arch above her, his head thrown back, his mouth open as he cried out.

Diana watched Kal sleep.

She was thinking how lucky she was that it was Kal and not Ares next to her. It could so easily have been Ares.

She thought about what Hal had told her. Kal had been very happy with his Kryptonian family and was loath to leave them. It was a measure of the Superman that he was, that he was able to rise above the temptation and fulfill his destiny. It was no small measure of the love he bore for her as well.

She put her hand on Kal's back. Very lightly—She had no wish to wake him. His skin was smooth and warm under her fingers. She felt the power of him. And yet he could be so gentle.

He stirred in his sleep and, rolling over, took her in his arms.

Diana's last thought before she fell asleep was, "This is what it means to belong to someone. I don't think it even frightens me anymore. It is, quite simply, a fact of my life."

On Olympus, Erato reported back to Aphrodite, "Mission accomplished."

Aphrodite smiled. She had granted Kal's request of Athena. Now, it was left to Athena to ensure that Diana's request for the ability to bear a child was granted.

(Author's Note: That brings me to the end of this fanfic. A big thank you to Imfanci being such a wonderful beta, and to the SMWW fan group for their constant encouragement.)


End file.
